


An Nathrach-Dè

by SerenityJayne



Series: The Warrior and the Dragonfly Series [2]
Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Boudica - Freeform, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Dragonfly, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Justice League (2017) Spoilers, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Post-Justice League (2017), Pre-Justice League (2017), Romance, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Sexual Content, Superheroes, super powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 00:10:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 69,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14821538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenityJayne/pseuds/SerenityJayne
Summary: Bruce and Myrna return, having been together for a little over a year, building a life with one another in their search for happiness.  The danger Bruce has been warning of seems to be drawing nearer, leaving him to find the meta-humans Lex Luthor was shadowing before his incarceration and try to form a league of heroes to protect the world-- But is the danger just that which the universe is throwing at them, or is it closer to home?





	1. An Nathrach-Dè: The Dragonfly

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I couldn't let the idea sit for too long, so here's the second volume to Bruce and Myrna's story. If you have not read Shattered, the first installment of this series, I would suggest you do so, or this probably won't make much sense. I do hope you enjoy it.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: The language you will see throughout this story is Scots Gaelic. I do not, nor have I ever spoken Scots Gaelic in any form of fluency. I researched translator websites and what I could cross reference to show accuracy, I did, but as this is a fanfiction, I'm not going to spend money for perfection. So if you DO speak Scots Gaelic, or you run it through a translator app/website and it doesn't say what I said it says, I apologize profusely. No ill will or offense was intended-- the translations I provide after each sentence is what I asked it to say, so you can at least know what I did mean. Also any mythology, folklore or history I use in this piece is researched as much as my time can allow, if I see something I've included in at least two different places with different sources, I will expect it to be accurate enough for these purposes. I also expect there to be some suspension of disbelief, because I'm writing about superheroes so, some things might be fantastical. As always, your comments and kudos are welcome!

**_One year ago…_ **

 

Bruce pulled the car into the small stall dedicated to parking beside the glasshouse, he and Myrna stepping out of their respective sides simultaneously, quiet but bursting to come together once more in the house to talk about the possibilities this relationship might hold for them both.  The door of the glasshouse opened and Myrna was thrilled to see Alfred step out on the stoop, a pleasant smile on his face. Although he remained his usual stoic self, he was pleased to see that Miss Myrna had once again managed to forgive his intelligent, but often romantically deficient charge for his latest folly against her.  She joined him at the steps of the house as Bruce pulled the protective cover over the car once more, a smile brightening her face as she did.

 

“Alfred!” She said happily, the older man allowing his guard to drop once more and wrapping her in a hug, the second of its kind, both dedicated to this woman of great patience and fortitude, a sight he had been sure would not return to this already often broodsome home.

 

“Miss Myrna, it is a pleasure to see you here again-- and with the smile I see on your face and the slightly less dreary look on Master Wayne’s, might I surmise the two of you have found your way back to one another?” He asked, Myrna looking back at Bruce before her eyes dropped shyly. It was difficult to believe in the course of a little over a few weeks, she had met a man like Bruce Wayne and she was very sure of how she felt that she was here in this moment, ready to discuss a future with him. Bruce having finished his work,  joined them, putting a hand to Myrna’s lower back as he looked to his friend and mentor. 

 

“Are you going to make us stand in the cold to interrogate us,  or are you going to let us in the house Alfred?” He asked with a less than serious tone, the older man shaking his head and rolling his eyes heavenward, making Myrna laugh as they moved into the house. She could feel Bruce’s hand against her back but realized something else had struck a nerve with her as they cleared the step inside; Myrna’s head snapping around to look toward the road they had just driven up to get here.

 

“Myrna?” She heard Bruce say softly as she looked out along the tree line surrounding the house, the hair on her neck rising as though she were anticipating an electric shock. She shook her head to clear the feeling and looked back at Bruce. 

 

“Sorry, I just had the strangest feeling… It’s gone now.” She responded, stepping the rest of the way through the doorway so it could be shut and dropping her coat on the hook beside Bruce’s. They found Alfred scurrying around the living room, preparing a large, warm fire in the fireplace for them, pouring a bourbon for Bruce and making a warm drink for Myrna in what seemed a matter of seconds, before he took his leave to allow the two some privacy for the evening.  Bruce watched as Myrna said her goodbyes to the graying Englishman, sipping from his drink as he did so. 

 

The car ride from the academy had been quiet, but comfortable; he had taken her hand in his the moment they had set off, twining their fingers together so he could touch her, despite having the responsibility of transporting them to their destination.  They had talked a little about the days after the battle, Bruce telling her about the funeral for Clark Kent, also known as the Superman, Myrna marveling at how strange it was that the someone so powerful could have managed to stay as anonymous as he had, to the point he had even had a family.  Of course she had felt that way about Bruce when she had first realized he was more than some billionaire CEO-- as if  _ that  _ alone hadn’t been enough to make him monumentally unattainable.  It seemed the world was full of surprises and maybe heroes-- and it didn’t even realize it.  He had told her he suspected more was coming, that the deaths of Superman and Doomsday were not all they need be concerned about, it was just a matter of time. Despite this prophesying, they carefully skirted around saying how that might affect them as a couple, wanting to save that discussion for a place more appropriate than Bruce’s car; but there had been enough for one to glean how the other felt.

 

Now he stood just behind her as she walked toward the fireplace, mug in hand as she watched the flames, the shadows falling across her face in time with their dance.  He could live with a view like this for years to come, her long red hair loose across her shoulders and back, a set of deep hazel eyes set in pale skin, dusted with freckles leading into a long, smooth neck. He took another sip from his glass before setting it down and walking toward her.  She was drawn from the reverie of the fire when she felt him at her side, knowing there was no turning back now. She let her eyes train slowly to meet his gaze and saw there were questions there, silent as he was at this moment. Myrna let him take the cup she was holding from her hands and set it on the stone ahead of the fireplace before he grasped both, dwarfing them with his own.

 

“I think we both know my life is… Abnormal…” He started, Myrna letting out a small chuckle.

 

“That’s probably the understatement of the year, Bruce.” She said, Bruce in total agreement with her; there really wasn’t a better way to explain who he was, relieved that at least he didn’t have to with Myrna.  

 

“True, you’ve seen it-- even lived it in a way…” He said, referring to her experience with Martin Cooper, where she had first realized he was the Batman.  It was strange being able to be open about this with her, when he had spent so many years doing the opposite with those he was intimate with. He found he was struggling to put into words what he was thinking.  

 

“Myrna, I think it’s clear what I do, when I’m in the suit-- it’s beyond unconventional and not conducive to an ordinary relationship…” He stumbled over his own tongue, feeling as though all those years of maintaining a smooth and aloof cover toward people-- _women_ \-- was cracking at the edges with her and soon it wouldn’t be words, but a pathetic plea for her to stay even though she would be well within her rights to say this was not the life she wanted.  He was almost relieved when she laid her fingers against his mouth, gently, but effectively stopping the flow of words coming from it.

 

“I never said I wanted ordinary.” She said, her eyes roving over his face as she said this, hoping to see something there that told her what he was feeling.  He was quickly becoming a legend at hiding even the smallest reaction, almost to the point of being infuriating. 

 

“What I want,” she continued, letting her fingers drop from his lips to rest against his chest, “is you, Bruce.  And  _ you  _ are extraordinary.” She said, Bruce feeling the most alien sensation run through him at hearing such a supportive tone, when for twenty years he had made himself believe that no one would want to live in such a way, that the strain of sharing him with his duties as Gotham’s knight would be too much.

 

“I could die.” He finally said, as if she hadn’t already been made brutally aware of that fact in the last three days, wondering if he’d even survived his own stupidity long enough to be killed by some monster created through Frankenstein science.  Myrna gave him her famous half smile and then went serious on him, smoothing out a wrinkle on his shirt before responding.

 

“So could I.” She said, daring him to disagree, she’d already survived at least three separate crises, one of which  _ had  _ almost taken her life.

 

“I do it on purpose though.” He responded, trying to call her bluff, reminding her she hadn’t had a choice in any of those moments, whereas he went looking for trouble on an almost nightly basis; and it was only going to get worse if Luthor’s cryptic warning about Superman’s death attracting the universe’s darkest to Earth, like flies to rotting meat.  Myrna tilted her head, considering him in that way only she could manage as she thought about her response.

 

“You think I was almost beaten to death in an alley because I make friends easily?” she asked him, Bruce’s eyes letting off a glint that told Myrna she had him.  She poked his chest with a finger and laughed when she saw it.

 

“See?!  You think just because you dress up like a bat and kick criminal ass, you’re the only one who makes enemies?  Please. I think I’ve proven teaching is a dangerous profession and the insurance isn’t even that good.” She said, Bruce finally giving in to a rare laugh, the man who lived a life of permanent brood gifting her with a laugh she promised herself she’d hear more of, somehow.  She touched his face and smiled at him.

 

“I like it when you laugh.” She said, Bruce letting his hands slide up her sides to pull her even closer.

 

“I don’t think we have time for a list of things you do that I like.” He said, Myrna rolled her eyes though she was thoroughly delighted at the thought.

 

“I’m sure because it’s extensive and bullet pointed?” she asked him, Bruce wrapping his arms around her waist and tightening his grip on her.

 

“Something like that.” He said, before lowering his mouth to hers and kissing her as though he hadn’t managed that many times before in the day.  When they parted, they rested their foreheads together, quiet for a moment until Myrna, sobered her humor to be as honest with him as possible.

 

“I know the Batman is a part of who you are, Bruce-- I wouldn’t ask you to be anything less than that…” She said, Bruce nodding against her.  

 

“I know.”

 

“I just want you to be honest with me, I want this to work and I don’t think it can if we’re not honest with each other.  We can’t go through what we did before again and be the same.”

 

“I agree.”

 

“ _ Try _ not to get yourself killed…” 

 

“I’ll do my best.”

 

“And if the time comes that you can let it go…” She stopped, not sure how to phrase it, knowing just how much of his life he had committed to this, so there was no way of knowing if he would ever be able to let it go, unless he was old and gray; but if he did, she wanted to be there.  She peered at him from her vantage point, Bruce looking at her, understanding what she was trying to say.

 

“I will.” He said, lifting his head, the look in his eye making her shiver with anticipation.  Bruce was awash with things he had spent decades pushing down, ignoring, because there was no room for it.  There couldn’t be. He desperately wanted to be wrong as he looked at this woman before him. There weren’t enough words for him to describe just what felt for her, it was too much.  He wanted her, he loved her, he admired her-- all things he had heard normal people say about their lovers and spouses. He had never disagreed one could feel that way about another person, but he hadn’t, not to this extent.  It was powerful and humbling and he wanted so much to see where it went, even if there were dangers on the horizon they couldn’t yet see. There wasn’t much time for either of them to consider more before Bruce lifted her up, carrying her across the living space to his bedroom.  Myrna pushed her hands through his hair and kissed his forehead as he moved them, laughing.

 

“I’m glad we had this talk.” She said as they disappeared into the darkness of his bedroom and the long night before them.

 

However, the night didn’t just conceal them, it concealed another.  Hidden among the trees, their shadow had arrived, watching them as they had discussed what they needed from one another until Bruce had wrapped her in his arms and carried her away to where the light was extinguished in the house.  In the moonlight, their shadow formed a man again, on foot, having abandoned the motorcycle and the tell-tale whine of its motor at the edge of the Wayne estate. He was tall and broad shouldered, he wore well traveled leather pants tucked into tall, multi-buckled boots and a loose fitting long-sleeved tunic, the November cold didn’t seem to bother him; his long blond hair was pulled back into braids of varying sizes and lengths, with the sparkle of metal beads flashing from the bundle that was all tied into a ponytail at the base of his neck.  Peeking from the edge of his shirt collar were tattoos, twisting and curling in celtic knots across his skin. He crouched down to the ground, using the tip of his index finger to carve what appeared to be runes into the dirt, the wind beginning to rustle through the trees, until the sound of it pushing against the branches and leaves was like a train at full speed. He spoke with a thick accent into the wind, his words almost being torn from his lips and carried away.

 

“Tha mi air a suidheachadh.”  _ I have located her.  _

 

He said, a moment later the wind shifting direction until a voice, feminine and far away floated toward him on it.  The man listening carefully to the words being tossed around on the wind.

 

“Sàr-mhath. Cumaibh faire air an nathrach-dè.”   _ Excellent.  Keep watch on the dragonfly. _

 

After making sure he heard his message, the man brushed at the dirt ahead of him until the runes disappeared and wind dissipated almost instantly, the voice gone and everything silent once more.  Standing up and brushing his hands clean of loose dirt, he took one last look at the darkened glasshouse before he walked into the treeline and disappeared once again into the night.

 

Without them realizing, it became clear the man’s presence gave testament to Bruce’s warnings. 

 

Something was coming.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is on his way to find his team as peril lurks closer for the planet-- Meanwhile Myrna has an encounter that puts her on edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there are some songs that have inspire me while I'm writing certain scenes and I hope they would do the same while you're reading the section that was written to them. So I thought I would try to indicate what songs at the beginning of the chapter and when to start listening to them during the scene. Be on the look out for the signal-->>> ***** 
> 
> Song: The Dreammaker by Audiomachine, Album: Life

**Present Day…**

 

_The ground was shaking, the building following in time, swaying like a tree in a strong storm and not a structure made of steel and concrete.  The screams of men, women and children echoed throughout the room, though it was difficult to tell if all the voices originated indoors; there were so many people running by the cracking glass exterior of their refuge, it wasn’t easy to tell.  The lights were flickering, doing their best to remain on and do their duty despite the fact debris and meteor size flotsam fell from the sky. Cheap gift shop toys and exhibits fell from their perches in the building around them. Myrna’s heart was pounding out of her chest, brain on overload with the catastrophe going on around her._

 

_What was she supposed to do now?_

 

_Where should she go?_

 

_Was it safer to stay put?_

 

_In every training she had been through, they had said this might happen; no matter how hard you trained with them, if you’d never been through a crisis like this, you might forget what you were supposed to do, it would be like you’d never even bothered to go to the training at all.  Practice was the key. But how were you supposed to practice without the terror that induced your sudden amnesia?_

 

_“What should I be doing?” She murmured to herself, she was forgetting something, but what?_

 

_“Miss Swift?” She heard her name, breaking the never ending circle of unsureness. She looked down toward the tiny, scared voice calling her name and saw someone.  She knew them, how did she know them? It was a child, dark haired and wide eyed with fear as the world fell down around them._

 

_“Miss Swift, I’m scared!” They repeated, breaking Myrna’s own terrified roots and bringing her to attention.  This was her student, a child to teach and protect between the hours of 8:30am to 3:30pm and now was as good a time as any to prove it.  She heard herself lie as she stuck out her hand. She heard herself say it was going to be ok, they would be alright, they just needed to stick together.  She felt the tiny hand in hers squeeze her fingers tightly as she reassured them over and over, but the small smile she’d won on them slipped away, face freezing with fear as the ceiling began to cave in, their ears full of thunder and shattering glass.  She could hear them scream, her heart thundering at its accusation she’d lied and let them believe they’d be ok._

 

_And it all went black._

 

Myrna shot up in bed, her own scream caught in her throat as her body realized just in time she was not being crushed under rubble and ash.  Not this time anyway. She slowed her breathing down, letting her racing heart reach a normal pace as she sat quietly. She reached up and pushed her hair off her face, some of the long strands sticking to her skin as she had broken into a cold sweat in her sleep.  It wasn’t the first time she’d had this particular dream, but it had been the first time in almost three years. She had learned to cope with the results of the attack on Metropolis and the losses of two of her students and her personal penance in creating the academy had helped stave off the nightly reminder she hadn’t been able to save them all.  She wasn’t sure what had triggered such a dream and although she wasn’t thrilled to have had it again, she was grateful it wasn’t real, despite feeling it. It was still dark out, as she reached across the bed, hoping to find the warm barrier that was Bruce so she might curl up next to his strong back and fall asleep reassured she wasn’t back in Metropolis; unsurprised to find his side empty and cool to the touch.  It was disappointing, but she’d grown used to his hours being unnatural. There were times he was gone for days at a time working “the job” as he liked to call it. It was hard, especially on particularly difficult days when all she wanted was to come home to him, kiss his face and tell him how much she loved him; but she had taken on the mindset it wasn’t unlike military life, women who had committed their hearts to soldiers who often found themselves deployed to faraway places, away from those they loved.  She recognized she had an advantage that Bruce was usually still in the same city, though some days she argued with herself if that was better or worse when he wasn’t back for awhile.

 

They’d managed to make this work for a year and felt like they had done a fine job of it. That wasn’t to say there hadn’t been some disagreements, arguments, really, mostly about Bruce’s habit of thinking Myrna needed protecting at all times.  The first and only time she’d found a bug in her phone, she’d had a long conversation, complete with pocket Constitution about her right to be secure in her person against wrongful search and seizures, which _included_ her billionaire boyfriend bugging her phone.  He’d made a smartass comment about the Patriot Act, looking at what he had done as no more than a precautionary act in case someone used their connection to hurt her to get to him.  When he’d put Luthor away a year ago, he’d discovered the disturbed man was very aware of who he was under the cowl and if Luthor knew he was both Bruce Wayne and the Batman, then the tabloids reporting on he and Myrna’s relationship every chance they got would certainly make her a tempting target for the likes of Luthor or anyone he’d confided in, past or present.  Although she’d made him pay for the Patriot Act comparison, letting him know his potential terror suspect would be sleeping on the couch, rather than in Gitmo with her interrogator, she’d conceded he was probably right about there being a modicum of danger and allowed him to put more sophisticated tracking on her phone— just in case. She’d made herself clear though, if it ever turned into more than GPS, or he used it for anything other than saving her from real life monsters, she’d be forced to kick his ass.  

 

Repeatedly.

 

He’d agreed, though Myrna wasn’t sure he had taken her threats too seriously, since he was basically built like a brick wall and she was— not. Which only frustrated her as she knew that was why he felt he had to be responsible for her safety.  She was grateful he cared for her deeply enough to want to protect her and she knew he wasn’t wrong there were awful people in the world that he’d been fighting throughout his twenty years as the Batman, some of them not even _his_ enemies, but hers in her own work as “Principal-Woman”.  She loved that he didn’t want harm to come to her and there were days she felt particularly lucky, that out of all the women on the planet he could be with, he had wanted _her_ and that meant she was afforded being with a man who could and would protect her with his extensive skill set; but she also didn’t want to be the weak one.  There was always a chance coming to her aid would put him in danger, or there would be a time he’d have to choose between her and everyone else; she knew Bruce well enough after all this time what he would do and it would simply bring him more grief.  She knew, because Superman had been dead the same amount of time they’d been together and even though he rarely spoke on it, when he did, she could tell it still ate at him that he felt responsible for his death. That’s why she had taken it upon herself to take that weight off him, if the time came and based off his concern of what was to come, it was probably  sooner than anyone thought.

 

After determining she was now fully awake and unlikely to get back to sleep without help, she slid her legs out from under the blankets, throwing a sweatshirt on over her tank top and slipping on a pair of flip-flops.  She made her way to the secret door in the house that led downstairs to Bruce’s workspace. Receiving her own “key” to the batcave had been both exciting and terrifying. Being welcomed into Bruce’s world, especially without an escort had taken a level of trust she knew Bruce did not easily come by. Even though she’d had this ability for awhile, she still occasionally found herself hesitant to go without an invitation, waiting until Bruce or Alfred were already on their way down to join them if needed.  Sometimes it was nice just to work on her own paperwork with Alfred puttering around his work table, some new project needing to be completed while Bruce was out working. The older man keeping a watchful eye on his charge through the monitors of the many computers housed there, while asking Myrna about her day, the children and various other things he’d taken care to listen to during their conversations, sure to inquire about them if they were of particular importance to her. Myrna appreciated his interest and also recognized it as the recon it was, so Alfred might keep  Bruce apprised of things he may not already know so he would be able to tread lightly or otherwise if something had happened while he was away. It was an odd, but strangely endearing relationship she had with the two of them.

 

Myrna had not “officially” moved into the glasshouse, but she was there enough that if someone was looking for her outside of work, they would probably find her there.  It was easier for Bruce to see her even when he had things to complete as the Batman and cut down on the chances Penni would question something she saw or heard between the two of them, as she still didn’t know Bruce’s secret identity.  Myrna continued to go home to the house she shared with her best friend to help with upkeep and to have the occasional movie and catch up night, for things they hadn’t been able to talk about throughout their work days at the school. It also gave her dogs, Hank and Daisey a chance to play with Penni’s dog, Jasmine, since they stayed at the glasshouse now, which Myrna supposed meant she HAD moved in, since she wouldn’t live anywhere without them.  Alfred had been nearly apoplectic when Bruce had broken the news she would be bringing them with her; complaining that dog fur and muddy paw prints were actually worse than fiends like the Joker and his ilk combined, however when he had seen Myrna was not the type to have yippy ankle-biters for dogs and had gotten to know them, he had begrudgingly gotten over his earlier complaints. More frequently than not, Myrna would go looking for them, only to find Alfred had taken them for a long walk across the estate or was tossing a ball for them to fetch and scraps for them to snack on throughout the day.  All of which had them fat and very much in love with the old man, following his every move around the house and estate, leaving Myrna wondering whose dogs they really were at this point. She had to shoo them away now as they knew where Alfred was, unhappy to be banned from this area of the house as she opened the door and walked down the stairs to take the elevator the rest of the way to the batcave. She tucked her hands in the sleeves of her sweatshirt as the chilly air from the cavern carved out under the lake hit her, goosebumps rising across her bare toes and legs. She heard Alfred talking even though she couldn’t quite make out the words yet, the faraway reply from Bruce coming back over the speakers.  

 

She had known Bruce was spending time looking for something, a creature of some kind.  There had been reports throughout the city that there were monsters, with fangs and wings popping up here and there, terrorizing people for reasons Bruce suspected but couldn’t yet prove. As she drew closer, she saw Alfred was watching what Bruce was doing through the cameras installed on his suit.  Bruce was currently crouched on the ledge of a building, the view down was one that would have made Myrna panic she was going to fall, but he had a balance she could only wish for and didn’t seem perturbed by it in the slightest. She saw a window open on the building across from where Bruce was perched and after a second, a canvas bag packed full and a middle aged man wearing what looked like a ballistics vest, hopped out after it.  Based on the time of night, his point of exit and the fact Bruce was watching him, Myrna felt it was safe to assume this was likely not an innocent walk under the stars and that bag was full of things that didn’t belong to him.

 

“Back to our regularly scheduled crime stopping, are we?” She asked as she walked to Alfred’s side, the older man looking up in surprise behind his tortoise shell spectacles.

 

“Miss Myrna!  I thought you were asleep.” He said, Myrna shrugging as she pulled up one of the wheeled chairs nearby and sat down beside Alfred.

 

“Funny thing, sleep. Comes when you can’t afford it to, leaves when you’d rather it didn’t.” She responded, eyes glancing back up to the screen as the burglar now realized he was being watched.  Alfred gave a knowing look, agreeing with her thoughts on sleep.

 

“Bad dreams then?” He said, Myrna looking at him for a second, admiring that he knew exactly what was bothering her without having to say it, and nodding, attention drawn back to the computer screen as she heard gunshots. Although they sounded tinny and far away because it was traveling through miles and speakers to reach them, it was still a surprise. She kept a calm exterior but couldn’t help her heart beating faster at the sound; she knew Bruce was perfectly capable of avoiding being shot, even though he had the scars to show he wasn’t always successful,  but it’s what he did and she trusted him to keep himself alive. That didn’t mean her heart didn’t crawl into her throat that someone was trying to kill the man she loved because they couldn’t be bothered to choose a smarter, more legal profession. It was hard to see now, as Bruce made his move on the man currently shooting at him, his charge and subsequent moves blurring the camera’s view. She heard the thuds and yells of someone being handed their ass during a fight and felt it was clear Bruce had the upper hand. A few more shots and the sound of water rushing out of something, just enough light filtering around where Bruce was for them to see he was tucked safely behind a rooftop water tank, which explained the sound of running water as the burglar had managed to puncture it with a bullet. The man considered his options, now that he was unarmed and rightly determined he was no match for the caped crusader. He spotted an opening at the edge of the building and decided to take his chances leaping to the roof across the way, when he was surprised, mid stride by a kick to the face, Bruce landing just ahead of him and wrapping him tight in the line of his grappling gun, spinning the criminal toward the opening he had previously seen as an escape route.  Bruce let him tip over the edge, face now pointing toward the hard concrete below, yelling at Bruce to reconsider.

 

“Wait, wait, wait, WAIT!  Please, please man—“ he begged as his eyes remained fixed on the spot he would be pancaked on soon if the Bat were to let go of him. “What do you want from me?” He asked, considering all the different ways he would confess to his crimes if given the opportunity, if the guy wanted him to sell out his grandma, he would if it meant he wouldn’t decorate the pavement.  He was surprised when he heard the demand, the deep, gravelly robotic voice the Bat used to disguise himself gave him.

 

“Fear. They can smell it.” He said, the burglar confused by who he was referring to.  Alfred and Myrna watched as Bruce looked down at the screen attached to his gauntlet, a small flashing light on a map of the area they were in moving along the grid lines it had laid out across it, the sound of something bursting from somewhere, the criminal currently attached to his line beginning to scream as something terrifying flew at him. Waiting until the last possible second he could, Bruce yanked the line back with significant force, the man flying through the air and landing on the roof as Bruce charged forward.  Leaping into the air, the two sitting in the batcave watched as he made contact with the creature he’d been tracking. On one hand it looked as though it were covered in mechanical parts, while the rest of it was mottled and disfigured, eyes flaming red and long sharp teeth, insect like wings flapping furiously with the added weight it carried as Bruce wrapped his arms and legs around the creature as it took off with him in tow.

 

“I hate it when he does this.” Myrna muttered as the creature dragged Bruce into the sky above downtown Gotham, the tops of buildings passing by in the periphery as the red eyed and screeching thing snapped at Bruce’s face.  They could hear the effort it was taking him to both hang on and keep from being bitten but the attention of the animal was drawn away when a building’s alarm system was set off nearby. Bruce looked toward the building in question, it’s emergency lights and speaker system on full blast, the whining tones obviously irritating the alien he was holding on to.  Alfred, just as concerned as Myrna, nodded.

 

“As do I, Miss Myrna, as do I.” He said, eyes never leaving the screens ahead of them as Bruce managed to get the creature back to the roof they had started on, fighting it off him and pinning it to the wall with a net.  It screeched and snapped trying to break free of its bonds before finally, they could see its chest begin to glow and a low whine slowly build up from inside it, it finally exploded into a fiery ball that dissipated almost as quickly as it had occurred; Bruce leaning back and covering his eyes at the flash.  Myrna’s face contorted into disgust at the remnants of electric green, what she assumed was blood, rolling down the wall leading to a pattern of three boxes. Alfred leaned forward to get a clearer look at the screen.

 

“What the hell?” He exclaimed, telling Myrna this was not what they had been expecting.  Bruce’s microphone picked up the burglar Bruce had left on the rooftop before the winged creature had taken off with the two of them, incredulously questioning what he had just seen.

 

“What was that?”  He asked, but Bruce didn’t bother to look at him as he examined the pattern left in the wall, still glowing from the explosion.

 

“A scout.“  He answered, unconcerned the man was shocked by this turn of events.

 

“From space. Like an alien army?”  Bruce didn’t respond to the question, talking to Alfred over his comms.

 

“Alfred, are you seeing this?” he asked as he maintained focus on the mess in front of him.  Alfred nodded as he recorded what Bruce was seeing, pulling up the scans they had of Lex’s research.  Strange scribblings and drawings of things that appeared alien in nature, but even Lex didn’t have a solid answer for.  Myrna studied these scans from where she sat, quietly letting Alfred and Bruce discuss it. She knew a little about what they were looking for, but if everyone were being honest, none of them really knew what was coming or when.

 

“I am.  Matches the other sightings. And _that_ pattern is all over Luthor’s notes.”  Alfred responded as he scrolled through the scans, finding the appropriate drawing of three boxes that looked like what was left behind after the creature’s self-induced demise.  After a moment, she heard Bruce comment about his next move.

 

“Prep the jet. We’re going north tonight.” He said, Alfred nodding despite the fact Bruce couldn’t see him as he switched the screens to show photos of the four people, metahumans as had been taken to calling them, the likeliness of beings so similar to Superman also existing a much higher probability than previously thought thanks to their discovery.  Now, after seeing this, it seemed Bruce was ready to put together the team he had been adamant for the last year the world was going to need. People with abilities that would put them ahead of anything any government might have, if the major losses America’s own military had suffered during the incident with the Kryptonians were any indication.

 

“Good, it's time then.” Alfred responded, he and Myrna watching Bruce’s monitor as he went to leap from the building, leaving the still tied criminal behind to reconsider his life choices after being used as bait for a monster.  That didn’t stop him from blurting out his own theory on the matter.

 

“It’s cuz they know he’s dead, right?  Superman. He’s gone. Where does that leave us?” he asked, Bruce’s step hitching for a moment.  She couldn’t see him, but Myrna knew him well enough to understand that his silence wasn’t just silence.  The guilt of Superman’s death and leaving the planet without one more guardian was still there, in strong form.  She stayed quiet at the moment, not wanting to be a distraction, but tucking it away for when he returned back to the glasshouse.  He might be leaving tonight, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t have a chance to remind him that he still wasn’t the villain in this.

 

* * *

 

Bruce returned to the glasshouse within the hour, Alfred already making various calls in preparation for their trip north.  Bruce was surprised when he quietly opened the door leading up from the lower level to find Myrna awake, walking to the bed where his duffel bag sat open and carefully packing his shaving kit in one of its many pockets, knowing what things she knew from previous experience of seeing him off, he took with him when traveling for a job. Having assumed she would have been asleep when he had told Alfred to get ready to leave, Bruce was curious why she was very much awake.  She was still in shorts and a tank top, her long auburn hair in a braid that swung against her back, her usual bedtime attire. He knew Alfred would never have intentionally woken her to help him prepare anything, even though she had said many times before she was more than happy to do whatever he needed. More often than not, Alfred kindly, but firmly told her what he needed was for her not to put him out of a job just yet; he would retire when he was ready and she’d be able to pack Bruce’s things to her heart’s content then.  As Bruce recalled, Myrna had called Alfred a crotchety old man, but had stayed out of his way until there was a need for her after all; the two working together perfectly well, Alfred glad for the help despite maintaining his gruff composure. Bruce stood at the corner of the room where the open concept boundary split bedroom and living space. Myrna now working on folding a few of his shirts, a variety of button downs, t-shirts and long sleeves, since she didn’t really know where he was going to end up; as she spread the current shirt she was working on out in front of her in preparation of folding it.

 

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” she asked without stopping what she was doing, Bruce shaking his head that either he was losing his touch at being able to walk up on her without her noticing or she had picked up some tricks of her own in the last year.  He closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, pressing a kiss to her neck in lieu of hello.

 

“Should I be worried I can’t _ninja_ into a room with you anymore.” He asked with faux concern as Myrna had often chided him for scaring her by walking into a room without her seeing, frequently telling him off for using his “ninja” techniques on her.  She laughed as she finished folding the shirt ahead of her and laid it into the main pocket of his bag.

 

“That’ll be the day.” She said as she grabbed the next shirt, smoothing it out across the comforter on their bed to start folding it, “You didn’t answer my question though… Do you know how long you might be gone?” she asked again, Bruce shaking his head as he still held her.

 

“Why?  Think you’ll miss me?” he asked, heart lighter now that he was with her, a common occurrence after an eventful night as the Bat, even though his experience less than an hour ago with an alien scout was niggling at the back of his brain.  He didn’t know what the thing he had captured, even as briefly as he had was, but the only obvious fact was it wasn’t a good sign. He was brought back to the conversation as Myrna let out a sarcastic snort, throwing her head back just enough to make it clear she was laughing at him.

 

“Ha!  No… Just trying to figure out if I should pack more than just these.” She said gesturing to the small pile she had made on the bed to fold and pack for him.

 

“Honestly, not sure, so far the best lead we have is on Arthur Curry and even that’s not that solid…” He said, Myrna laying the second folded shirt on top of the first as she listened.

 

“The fish-man?” she clarified, Bruce nodding, a small smile crossing his lips at her assessment of the research they had looked through from LexCorp of all the sightings, video-proof and otherwise odd captures of some incredibly powered people.  One of whom, Myrna had learned was Diana Prince, the woman Bruce had been speaking to at the museum gala they had attended when they had first started seeing each other. Knowing the woman was thousands of years old, barely looked a day over thirty and had the body of a supermodel, hadn’t exactly made Myrna feel better about that memory; but she had gotten to know Diana over the last year too; the Amazonian princess occasionally traveling back and forth from Gotham to Paris where she lived and worked as a museum curator.  Although her joining Bruce’s proposed team hinged entirely on there being a threat, she had become a good friend to them both. 

 

“I’m not sure that’s what he goes by in his circles… But yes, the fish-man.” Bruce said, talking about Arthur Curry, the man they had video of swimming, unconcerned and without any mechanical aid whatsoever,  in the Tonga Trench; seconds before he smashed a UV sub with what looked like a trident, the second UV capturing him disappearing into the black depths with a speed that didn’t seem possible with a humanoid body.

 

“So it’s probably going to be awhile.” She estimated as she folded yet another shirt, knowing she would pack these and Bruce wouldn’t wear more than two the whole time, because he was a billionaire that often dressed like a penniless bachelor when he was focused on something.  Bruce nodding before kissing up her neck and letting her go, walking over to one of the drawers built into the floating wall of the room, pulling out a few sweaters stored there.

 

“Probably… Though I know wherever he ends up being, it’ll probably be cold.” He said as he set them down next to the bag, “Why are you packing for me anyway? I can handle it.” He said, still wondering why Myrna was awake when it was nearly 4am and she had to work soon.  Myrna stopped what she was doing and looked him like he might have lost his mind.

 

“Because I can.” Was all she said, before she went back to folding and packing a few more shirts and the sweaters he had pulled out.  She stayed quiet because she didn’t want to admit that this time she was the one waking up because of bad dreams and bad dreams that had to do with Superman at that, even if just in passing.  She added pants and the rest of his necessities as he pulled them out of his drawers, her short response simply making him wonder more what was eating at her. As she zipped the bag up, he caught her hands and pulled her toward him, Myrna smiling up at him as though nothing were wrong.

 

“You could come with me.” He said, Myrna’s smile growing wider, both because it was a romantic suggestion, (for Bruce) and also because there was no way she could leave on such short notice without making half her staff and all of her best friend wonder what was up.

 

“Well as _romantic_ as it sounds for me to go with you to places unknown looking for a man with abnormally large lungs--” she said, Bruce matching her smile, familiar with her sarcasm enough to know she wasn’t being serious, but playing along anyway.

 

“Great, then you should pack too.” He said, Myrna rolling her eyes.  He didn’t always seem like he had a sense of humor, but there was one, if he cared enough about someone to share it.  Most people didn’t make that cut, so Myrna could only be glad she was among the few who did.

 

“I’m not sure there’s ever a good time to hop on a plane at 4am to track someone who probably doesn’t want to be found in the first place-- but the week of parent-teacher conferences and the 5th grade talent show, probably ranks as one of the worst.” She said as she freed her hands from his to pat his face apologetically before she turned back to his bag and picked it up off the bed to hand to him.

 

“So I guess you’ll just have to find Michael Phelps on your own this time.” She added as Bruce took his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

 

“Michael Phelps would probably be easier to convince to join a team than this guy.” He told her, Myrna nodding in agreement as she stepped closer now that he had his bag and smoothed her hands up his chest.

 

“I’m sure your charming and ever perky  personality will win him right over.” She answered, the two of them knowing full well if there was one thing Bruce was not, it was perky. Charming, maybe, but likely not in a way that would impress a man who looked like he picked fights for the fun of it. If he did manage to find this Arthur Curry, he was going to be a hard sell at best and Bruce wasn’t always diplomatic when it came to asking for help. The fate of the world was at risk and for him it was an easy choice to do something about it. It was frustrating for him when it wasn’t that easy to everyone else.

 

“I’m not sure I’m his type.” Bruce said, pushing his hand through the shock of hair that was loose from her braid and hung around her face until he could tip her head back and kiss her thoroughly before he had to say goodbye.  Which wasn’t long before they heard Alfred calling from the living room that he’d received notification from the airport the jet was ready for his departure as soon as he was aboard. Myrna looked up at him with a look that told him to get going, she had a funny way of doing that and he was grateful for it.  She had been nothing but patient and understanding in the last year, despite his best efforts, his work as the Batman often interrupting things that would be relationship ending for others, She continued to be supportive regardless, never complaining when she had every right to.

 

“I’ll try to make this quick.” He said softly, Myrna nodding as she wrapped her arms around his neck, his own wrapping around her waist in response.

 

“I know.” She responded, hugging him tightly before she stepped back and crossed her arms, sending him on his way.  He regarded her for a moment, something about her countenance making him wonder if he shouldn’t ask more questions, check to make sure she was ok before he left; but she jerked her head toward the door, smile breaking across her lips, encouraging him to go and he chalked it up to it being too early in the morning for her.  He walked to the living room, Myrna following as he made his way to the front door. He gave her one last look before he and Alfred departed, the door shutting and locking behind them. She watched them as they both climbed into the car and set off as the sun began to peep over the edge of the horizon. It would likely be halfway to its final destination in the sky before they reached the airport, heading into its beams as they traveled to the last place Arthur Curry had been seen before disappearing off the radar entirely.  Myrna didn’t envy Bruce his current job as it seemed none of these people, save Diana (and even she was elusive when she wanted to be) would be easy to find, but this one, seemed by far the most difficult for them as he had the ability to use both land and sea to his advantage in remaining anonymous.

 

As Bruce’s car disappeared up the road, Myrna felt her shoulders sag with exhaustion.  She was definitely feeling the effects of not sleeping the night through and now she only had a few hours before she had to get out the door to her own work.  Rubbing her face Myrna shuffled back to the bedroom and slid herself under the covers, turning on her side as she pulled Bruce’s pillow from his side of the bed and tucked it under her cheek so at the very least she could try to fall asleep comfortable.  Although her body had no problem giving in to the need for rest and immediately did so, her mind was far from done with her. By the time she woke at the screech of her alarm, Myrna felt as though she had gone 12 rounds and her brain was on fire. She hadn’t thought it was possible to have as many dreams in the span of a few hours as she had, but what she could remember told her it had been a marathon.  More dreams about the day of the attack, children grabbing her hand in search of her protection that didn’t look like any of her students from the past eleven years much less the two she had lost during the incident and then an audience of strangely dressed people she didn’t know watching her, yelling and screaming at her in words she couldn’t understand. It had certainly been an eventful few hours even if she’d been unconscious for most of it.

 

 ********* Dragging herself to get ready for the day, she dressed and put her hair up in a groggy daze, hoping she’d manage to find any wind, much less a second one before she got to school.  It felt like stones were tied around her ankles making her slow to a turtle’s pace. If it weren’t for Hank barking a reminder, she would have forgotten to let the two dogs waiting patiently by the back door out to go potty before she went on her merry way, which made her feel worse.  She opened the door for them, Hank immediately running to the lake to splash along the edge, Daisey shooting into the trees at a pace that told Myrna she’d spotted something and wasn’t letting it out of her sights no matter how loud or long Myrna called. Something Myrna was forever frustrated with that as she was otherwise a perfect dog.

 

“Damnit.” She muttered, knowing if she didn’t go after her, the dog would get lost or whatever she was chasing would get dead and she didn’t want either of those scenarios.  She ran out of the house, remembering fairly quickly by the bite of rock and dew against her skin she hadn’t put shoes on yet. She ignored it, still running after Daisey full tilt.  She heard her barking somewhere in the trees but couldn’t quite place the direction over her own heavy breathing. She heard something in her head yell at her to stop and listen, her feet slowing until she was stock still in the middle of the estate’s forest, she closed her eyes, part of her saying she was strange for doing it, the rest telling her to shut up and do it.  As she calmed her breathing she felt the wind pick up around her, the sound of morning birds and their counterparts emptying out of her ears as she listened for Daisey’s bark once more. A rush against her nerves shot up her back and in her mind’s eye she knew exactly where Daisey was standing, having treed an angry squirrel who was chittering insults at her dog for interrupting morning breakfast by having to run for its life.  Eyes snapping open, Myrna looked around for a moment and then ran in the direction of what she had seen, recognizing it immediately as she came to the clearing where Daisey was still standing and barking.

 

“Hey!” Myrna yelled, surprising her dog and drawing her attention long enough for the squirrel to take off without being harassed.  Myrna pointed back in the direction of the house, eyes narrowing at her four legged friend.

 

“I did _not_ OK a morning hike, sister.” She said, the big black dog looking bashful and immediately coming to her mistress's side, walking beside her obediently all the way back to the house where Hank had done his business and found his way back up to the deck, now fast asleep in a sunbeam crossing the wooden planks.  Myrna looked down at Daisey and shook her head that she could have two such different dogs.

 

“Couldn’t be a couch potato like your brother, huh?” she asked, Daisey giving her a big dog grin, her back end wiggling excitedly in replacement of wagging as she only had a nubbin in place of a tail.  She patted Hank awake, pushing the back door open, letting her mind trail off to the moments leading up to finding Daisey, not unaware that it had been something less than ordinary that had led her to her dog.  Since she didn’t have a good explanation, she chalked it up to sleep deprivation and knowing the property well enough she just made a lucky guess that seemed like more. She shooed the big dogs into the house and was about to enter when she heard a voice behind her.

 

“I believe ye dropped this.” Myrna jumped and spun around, immediately defensive.  With Bruce and Alfred having gone, there should have been no one but her on the estate. It was also concerning because Bruce had security set up anywhere it mattered and even where it didn’t, nothing, not even the mail was delivered without there being a notification.  In this instance, however, there had been no indication at all from the alarm system she was not alone. She didn’t even look at what the stranger was holding in his hand, her focus entirely on him and what his next move was. He was clearly Scottish based on the accent that had just escaped his lips.  Tall, at least as tall as Bruce but although he was broad chested and muscular, he was more sinewy than built. Ocean gray eyes were set in a face with a sharp jawline, the pair of them staring her as though he were trying to get a read on her. He had blond hair with a vague reddish tint to it in the morning sun, he had several braids, some complete with stamped metal beads that also shone in the light if he turned his head any direction, most tucked into a neat pony at the back of his neco.  He had on worn black jeans tucked into equally well used leather boots, a dark blue t-shirt tucked snugly against his torso, the v-neck showing her he had at least one large tattoo that ran across his chest, the intricate knotting and dark colors looked Celtic in design and might have been fascinating if not for the fact he was a stranger to her and currently trespassing.

 

“This is private property.” She said, not responding to his earlier comment and diving straight to the point.  He gave her a wry smile as though she’d just said something funny, which Myrna found irritated her immensely telling her it was unlikely he was lost and looking for help. He knew precisely what he was doing.

 

“Aye, I figured that once I saw the burnt out mansion and this eyesore of a house.” He said, Myrna becoming more than just physically defensive.  Truth be told, she didn’t care for the glasshouse herself. The design was more sterile and modern than she would have chosen, but Bruce had built it with his needs in mind long before she had ever been in the picture, nor did it belong to her, so she had kept quiet about the lack of curtains and more masculine features.  She had gotten used to it, only there for Bruce anyway, though after this experience, they were definitely going to discuss shades.

 

And by discuss she meant tell him they were _going_ to get them.

 

This stranger, coming out of nowhere, sneaking up on her and then insulting the home she shared with Bruce made her want to defend it despite her own feelings on the matter and certainly made it easier for her to decide to hit him if need be.

 

“Well, if you’re so opposed to the look of it, I think you’ll find the road off the property you don’t have any business being on is that way.” She said in clipped tone as she pointed back the direction he had to have come; she wasn’t going to waste pleasantries on him.  He shrugged, the smile still on his face, not at all perturbed by Myrna’s directions or voice.

 

“I well remember the way.” He said, his thick brogue only decipherable to Myrna because she worked with kids and that was a language that needed translation all its own.  She tilted her head and looked at him expectantly when he didn’t move immediately.

 

“Have you forgotten how to walk then?” she asked after a moment and he shook his head, raising his hand up, fingers still clenched over whatever it was he had brought her.

 

“Nah, but I think _ye_ might have forgotten I said ye dropped somethin’.” He said, Myrna’s eyes not moving from his.

 

“Whatever it is, you can just set it down and go then, please.” She said, not letting herself get any closer to him than necessary, knowing if she did she would be giving him the opportunity to grab her.  She’d had enough of that in the last few years if anyone was asking. He nodded, still too flippant for a trespasser in her opinion, as he leaned forward and set what was in his hand on the ground. As he did he said something quietly in a language she didn’t know but assumed, based on his accent, was gaelic.

 

“Cuimhnich sinn, dèan-dè _._ ” _Remember us, dragonfly._

 

 She felt a strange feeling rush through her as he spoke, something she couldn’t identify but was terrified by as he straightened again, holding his hands up in truce as he backed away and turned to cross the yard, Myrna staying where she was, never looking away until he disappeared from view.  When he had she finally looked down to see what he had left her, hand flying to her throat as she realized what it was. It was a white gold necklace with a matching pendant in the shape of a dragonfly, the wings were formed by the precious meal curling in and around itself in soft scrolls like the filigree barrette from her grandfather; within each of set of wings were delicate opal and pearl gemstones, in part to match the ring she wore from her grandmother, and also to commemorate her birth month.  He’d had the piece designed for her as a birthday gift, Myrna falling in love with it the second she saw it, wearing it every day since then. It definitely was not the most expensive thing Bruce had ever purchased, but it certainly was the most expensive thing Myrna had ever worn and something she treasured deeply. The idea she’d almost lost it made her sick to her stomach-- which joined the nerves she already had from the surprise of a stranger on the property. It did at least play to his character that he hadn’t simply taken it and not bothering to return it to her, but not by much as in order for him to have found it when he did, he had to have been watching her while she was searching for Daisey.  She had a pretty good idea of what she thought of his character at this point and she wished Bruce were home, if not just to make sure there was one more set of eyes.

 

Finding, thankfully, the clasp had simply come undone and not broken, Myrna slipped the necklace back to its regular place, the delicate pendant coming to rest at her breast bone.  She was already late leaving thanks to Daisey’s escapade and her run in with the strange man, so took the time to go to the batcave and double checked the security system. She played back the recordings of the cameras around the estate and found no sign of the blond man until he stepped out of the forest, a few paces behind her as she walked to the house with Daisey and woke Hank to go inside.  She chided herself for being so unobservant that she hadn’t even realized until he was practically touching her that he was even on the property. Bruce was one of the stealthiest men she knew, when they had first started seeing one another he could sneak up on her and scare the living daylights out of her, he hadn’t changed how he entered a room in over twenty years, he definitely hadn’t once they were together but her ability to know when he was home had.  This was just a reminder to her she’d gotten comfortable here. She checked the property cameras one last time, the man having disappeared once again, to who knows where.

 

As she gathered her things to leave for work, Myrna found herself conflicted.  She had a difficult time believing there was any chance this was coincidental. Of all the places in Gotham to show up, he just _happened_ to stumble on Bruce’s property, _purely_ by accident and further managed to see her while she was chasing down her dog to return her lost necklace?  Unlikely. But if not that, who was he looking for? Normally she would lean toward Bruce; as he had a tendency to make “friends” on a nearly nightly basis, it stood to reason this might be one of them.  The number of criminals he’d put away on his own was likely higher than Myrna assumed and she had no doubt the number of those criminals who had seen the light, gone straight and _didn’t_ want to kill him, was considerably smaller than she assumed.  However, Myrna couldn’t shake the way the man had looked at her; as impolite as he had been about the house and even her observational skills, he had looked at her with what she might call reverence.  The thought made her feel like a narcissistic worm for even suggesting it to herself, but it was the only word she could use that felt appropriate. His mouth had said one thing, but his eyes had said something else; he recognized her and for a reason only known to him, something happening to her when he set her necklace down and spoke.  With this in mind, she carefully considered what to do next.

 

If she tried to reach Bruce to tell him someone had trespassed and she felt like it had been intentionally to reach her, he _would_ come home to investigate and what he was doing now was far more important than her hunch.  If she ended up being wrong, she would not only feel incredibly stupid, she would have potentially caused him to lose his chance of finding Arthur Curry and the others.  She wasn’t going to be responsible for that kind of failure. If she was right though, she didn’t want to be caught unaware again and she knew remaining alone would only increase her chances of that.  

 

Sleepover with Penni it was then.

 

She would come back after work today, get some things for a few days and her dogs and stay at the house with Penni until she figured out if the man had vacated the area.  The glasshouse was as secure it was going to be, if whoever he was just a run of the mill criminal trying to break in, Bruce would be alerted and good luck to the poor sap who tried to burgle Bruce Wayne.  As she made her plan for the evening, Myrna checked the time, swearing as she realized she was now far later than she could blame on traffic, texting Penni that she was on her way but definitely going to be late if anyone was looking for her.  She hated being late, Penni frequently telling her to relax, she owned the place, she could be late all she wanted, but Myrna didn’t want that to be the example she made for the kids who were expected to be at school on time. Rules were for everyone.  It wasn’t lost on her how ironic that was, given she was in a fairly serious relationship with Gotham’s most notorious vigilante who frequently disagreed with that sentiment.

 

Locking the door behind her, Myrna made sure to pay more attention to her surroundings as she walked to her car, it seemed a little late now, given she’d been useless at it earlier, but lesson learned and now she had no excuse not to.  She made it to the vehicle unmolested and headed to work, still shaken, but determined to do better. This sort of situation was exactly what she had worried about when she and Bruce had moved forward with their relationship. She would be damned if she was going to prove the theory.


	3. Chapter 3

Myrna spent the first two weeks Bruce was out of the country with Penni, blaming her intrusion on Bruce’s absence but remaining vague that it was because she’d had a strange visitor at the glasshouse that spooked her.  Whatever the reason, Penni hadn’t been upset at the prospect of spending time with her best friend, missing having the opportunity to see her every day outside of work, so was glad to have her back, even for a short time.  The two of them easily slid back into their regular living situation for the time being, and for a moment, Myrna felt like her old self again. She adored Bruce with her whole heart, the man had become one of the most important people in her world but there were days being with him was harder than she’d ever imagined.  Despite his secret life as the Batman, his normal life, if one could call it that from the perspective she’d grown up in, was very much in the public eye. As the CEO of one of the largest and most successful companies in Gotham, his philanthropic work through Wayne Enterprises and his own coffers, was so well known, his very  presence made people scramble to shake his hand and take their photo with him the second they realized he was there. Whether it was out of admiration or a desire to make friends with someone that could serve a need in the future was a crap shoot.

 

She didn’t know how he put up with it, especially when it was obvious someone wasn’t interested in actually getting to know _him_ , but his pocketbook.  She realized very quickly she wasn’t immune to it either once people discovered she was more than just the latest dalliance for Mr. Wayne; a few truly weasley characters sidling up to her at events Bruce took her to, trying to win her good graces so she, the dutiful girlfriend with the billionaire’s ear, could put in a good word for them.  Most of the time, unless Bruce noticed them talking to her and asked what they had wanted she didn’t even mention it and if she did, it was because she had actually met someone genuine.

 

So one could assume how frequently _that_ happened.

 

She wasn’t safe from the media’s wrath either, Myrna having seen some truly creative headlines in the last year.  One tabloid going so far as to create the “Wayne Watch”, a weekly piece counting down the days until Bruce had had his fill of her and was off to the next heiress or prima ballerina; each week including a photo set and biography of extraordinarily gorgeous women he’d been “affiliated” with before her and where she ranked among them.  She wasn’t usually very high on the excruciatingly long list.  Apparently being a teacher with approximately $20 to her name, supporting a program of her own creation, and who came from a family they considered nobodies, wasn’t as attractive to some as it was others.

 

She ignored it as best she could, knowing it was just the kind of thing sleazy and at best, mediocre, papers did. However, when one is standing in line at the store and sees their face larger than life, plastered on the cover of a magazine speculating on their prowess in the bedroom being enough to keep hold of Gotham’s most sought after bachelor, (albeit also next to another headline on why the Queen of England was actually an alien sent to Earth from Planet Zandar), one finds it difficult to not want to throw themselves into traffic. Of all the things Myrna had assumed would be difficult about being with Bruce, it wasn’t TMZ trying to analyze their love life that would be the real struggle.

 

Thankfully, Myrna found Bruce to be worth the occasional discomfort of prying eyes, reminding the part of herself that struggled with not taking it personally, that Bruce wasn’t a man who wasted his time.  If she was even a tenth of what these papers claimed, she was a thousand percent sure she would have been kicked to the curb already. _Not_ given access to parts of his life that people who had known him far longer than her didn’t even know about, falling asleep in his arms in a bed he frequently referred to as theirs, not his, in a home he had welcomed her into without a second thought.  Bruce was always more stoic than most people and he certainly wasn’t someone who spent a lot of time reassuring anyone to calm their fears, but in their year together, he had shown Myrna more of who he was when not the Bat or Bruce Wayne CEO and it had never been anything but kind, gentle and often passionate.  All of which he directed whole-heartedly toward her and without any hesitation. She was confident in his feelings for her, even if she allowed herself to question why. And although it was not surprising to anyone, it was clear what _her_ feelings were for him, she made little to no effort to hide it.

 

Also, if she was going to allow herself a moment of pettiness; it helped that once in awhile, Penni, who _did_ take it personally for her friend, wrote emails and letters under various pseudonyms to tell the tabloids off for having nothing better to do than rag on a woman they clearly didn’t know.  Penni claiming it was cathartic to write a sternly worded response to low-lives who made money off being dramatic, as Mildred Platts, a kindly old woman who felt it her calling to defend Myrna’s honor.  It was a good reminder that the people who actually mattered in her life, knew who she was and her value in a way some snot-nosed tabloid reporter never could.

 

Being away from that for the last few weeks, however, had done wonders. Being comfortable in a house with curtains and some anonymity would never go out of style for her.  A style she was currently enjoying, tucked up on the large plush couch in the living room of the house as Penni popped popcorn in the kitchen, the two sitting down to watch a movie neither of them had had the time to see in theaters before it went to streaming.  She was engrossed in the opening credits when she felt her phone vibrate against her hip where it sat on the couch. She looked down to see it was Bruce, a rare candid photo of him working on something at one of his work tables, that she had managed to snap discreetly while watching him, popping up on the screen to identify him, as it continued to buzz.  She looked over at Penni who had just joined her on the couch and was mid-sip of her drink when Myrna’s phone went off. Looking down and seeing who it was she rolled her eyes good-naturedly and waved Myrna off to go talk to him.

 

“Just watch it without me, I’ll catch up.” Myrna said as she grabbed her phone and uncurled from the couch.

 

“Say hi for me.” Penni yelled as Myrna cut into the kitchen, heading to the back deck to talk with what little privacy it would give her and without disturbing her friend.  She swiped the screen to accept the call and answered.

 

“Hello?” she said, excited to hear from Bruce after waiting this entire time to have any news on where he was or if he had found who he was looking for while there.

 

“Hi.” He said back, Myrna finding hearing his voice was far more relief inducing than she’d expected.  For the days following her run in with the stranger on the estate, Myrna although comfortable at the house with Penni, had remained on high alert. Watching for him to return, as the memory of the way he’d managed to sneak onto the property without setting off the alarm system and the way he had looked at her, continued to make her nervous.  Despite that, even while on the other side of the world, hearing Bruce say something, even as innocuous as ‘hi’ had been enough to calm her.

 

“You’re not at the glasshouse.” He said matter of factly as his second sentence to her in two weeks, Myrna’s eyes rolling heavenward as she was wondering when he was going to ask about that; he was nothing if not consistent.  But she still wasn’t willing to interrupt his search for one incident, so elected to wait until after he got back to explain why she wasn’t home.

 

“Well… To be fair, you’re not either.” She said, hoping to deflect the conversation a little without tipping him off that’s what she was doing.  Not like it was his night job to tell when people we’re doing that sort of thing, but she was banking on not being a criminal helping her be less suspicious.  His response told her he wasn’t as convinced as she had been looking for, but it had been a long shot anyway.

 

“You haven’t been there for awhile-- Are you alright?” He asked, his usual to the point self.  She pondered very hard about revoking his GPS privileges to save herself some grief in the future as she answered him.

 

“Penni and I had some catching up to do, so I decided I’d stay with her for a little while.”  It wasn’t entirely a lie, they did and they had; so she made herself sound convincing and once he was home, she would tell him the rest of the story and he could update the security system to his heart’s content.  Or so she hoped.

 

“But you’re ok?” he asked again, Myrna smiling as she detected the worry he had apparently been trying to hide from her.  She knew it was because the glasshouse was _his_ territory; he knew it, he could control it and he could protect it, which meant he could protect her more easily.  What he didn’t know is something had gotten through that protection. She felt terrible for withholding that knowledge, but it was a balancing act of what was more important; an instance of her discomfort or him finding help to stop whatever was coming.  Her executive decision on that would just have to stand for now.

 

“I’m ok, Bruce…   _Though_ , if you’re worried-- You could always come home _now_ and keep me company.” She said, not unopposed to the idea in any way.  She might be used to his absences, but that didn’t mean she didn’t miss him terribly when he was gone and want him to come home as soon as he could.  Also, if she could manage to use some feminine wiles on him, maybe he’d stop asking questions— she wasn’t too good for that and was happy to admit it.

 

“I know.  Your company would be preferable to Alfred’s _any_ day.” He said just a hint of frustration in his voice, to which Myrna could hear a distinctly familiar and cranky British response in the background, but couldn’t make out what it was.  If she had to hazard a guess, it was Alfred saying something that probably shouldn’t be repeated in polite company anyway. Bruce didn’t say anything back, but Myrna could tell from his silence that it was going to be awhile longer before she saw him.

 

“It’s going to be longer before you come home, isn’t it?” She asked, Bruce letting out an annoyed exhale, upset because locating Arthur Curry was going to be as difficult, if not more so than he’d been afraid of and that meant more time looking for him.  He wasn’t too proud to say why that frustrated him as it, among other things, included being away from Myrna.

 

Again.

 

The fate of the world hung in the balance, he knew that, they both did, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a part of him that would rather be with her than tracking down a scruffy looking hideaway.  She had been patient, understanding and all the things he would never have expected from someone looking to be in a serious relationship, because he knew he was gone enough for her to say she was single with ease if asked and that ate at him. Like _now_ , for instance as he spoke to her from 30,000 feet in the air on his way to Iceland, of all places.  If this latest information, legend really, turned out to be as mythical as it sounded, Bruce was going to be heading home empty-handed.  And he didn’t like the thought of that either.

 

“Definitely longer.” He responded, but Myrna didn’t skip a beat.  No heavy sigh, no outburst, just more patience. He honestly had no idea what he had done to find a woman like Myrna, but he would have to show her just how grateful he was that he had as soon as he was home.

 

“Well… We knew he wasn’t going to be waiting for you with a neon sign over his head.  Most of the people on your list seem persistent in staying hidden.” She answered, the idea these people existed at all was sometimes awe inspiring.  Superman had been an incredible being, with indescribable power but that was easily explained away by the fact he hadn’t been born on Earth. These people, like Diana, Arthur Curry, and the others, they weren’t alien, but they felt alien because they had abilities no one else did.  It was a wonder Luthor and anyone else looking for them had managed to put names with faces; she wouldn’t want to be found either if she were them. She just hoped Bruce was the one who found them first.

 

“I wouldn’t be upset if they made it a little easier for me though.” Bruce said, sounding a little irritated, making Myrna smile.  Sometimes it was cute when Bruce was frustrated by not getting what he wanted right away, it made him seem less than the larger than life figure he was to her so often.

 

“Bruce Wayne, balk at a challenge?  The world truly IS ending.” She said with a laugh, he was, for lack of a better word, a detective.  He was smart and resourceful and he had managed a great many things because he was a stubborn mule of a man, and if anything it was his trade to figure out mysteries.  This one might just be a little bigger than he was used to. She could almost hear him smile on the other end of the phone and wished she was there to see it.

 

“I knew you should have come with me.” He said, it certainly would have made the time pass more quickly as Alfred was not always the most enjoyable company to be around.  Especially as he’d gotten older, he’d grumble more about the cold or the heat or any combination he chose, frequently reminding Bruce of the fact he wasn’t a young man anymore and if he’d wanted to go hiking in the north pole (though they weren’t anywhere near the north pole) he would have done so in his army days.  It left Bruce time to consider a great many things about the future as he scaled cliffs and walked to places unreachable by plane, alone. A silence he’d grown accustomed to and for a long time had preferred; but a year with Myrna had made him open to the possibility that maybe alone wasn’t the only way. Myrna laughed as she thought about what he was probably traipsing through right now.

 

“Sure, because you _definitely_ need more practice rescuing people.” She answered.

 

“I’m serious.”

 

“So am I!  You’d spend more time keeping me from falling to my death, than finding your team.” She added, an image of her falling off a cliff coming to the forefront of her mind as she heard a gruff chuckle as her reward.

 

“You’re not _that_ clumsy.” He said, trying to be helpful.  She wasn’t really, he’d noticed that as of late when they’d had the time for walks and hikes together, in the precious few pockets of hills and forested areas left in Gotham. She had stopped needing his help in the more difficult climbs they found, more nimble than before; compared to a year ago when he _would_ have agreed air could easily trip her. She had obviously become more aware of herself, more confident in a way he was more than supportive of.  He would have gladly mentioned it if he thought she would have believed him if he commented, but from his perspective, she wasn’t the klutz she thought she was.

 

“Maybe not-- but it doesn’t matter anyway, you know you aren’t going to these lengths for nothing.  They’ll see that, I know they will.”

 

“How do you do that?” He asked her.

 

“Do what?”

 

“Know just what to say when I honestly feel like I’m seconds from turning this plane around and giving up?” He said, Myrna shaking her head.  They both knew he wouldn’t have, but the sentiment was sound. This was not going to be a mission of ease, Myrna suspected for Bruce especially.  She would willingly be a constant for him so long as he needed that from her. She wouldn’t make him search for her, in any sense of the word, knowing what Luthor’s manipulation of Bruce and Superman had brought about for the world _and_ for Bruce. She knew he would need her to be there for him even if he never said as much.  If it were just she and Alfred, then that’s the way it would be, neither of them willing to leave Bruce without their support.

 

“We both know that was never going to happen-- It’s just not who you are.  Besides, I know how this works—I’ve seen enough books chucked on the floor by someone who was certain they’d never learn to read, only to have them find out they could a few minutes later…   _Unfortunately_ , I can’t tell a five year old to suck it up, but I _can_ tell you-- So suck it up, Wayne.  You’ve got work to do.” She said, Bruce having a difficult time ignoring just how much he wanted to be home right now, his hands itching to run through some lovely auburn hair.

 

“I’m going to **have** to, after that stirring speech I’m not sure how I couldn’t.” He told her, Myrna letting out a disappointed sigh.

 

“Aw, man!  I had a really good one about a little engine that could, too…” It was nice, if even for a moment to share normalcy with Bruce.  She wasn’t the same level of jokester Penni was, but compared to Bruce she was a comedian.  It was fun to try to make him laugh. A millisecond later, Myrna heard him say something in response but the words didn’t compute, something catching her attention as she looked down at the hand not holding her phone against her ear.  

 

Her grandmother’s ring was glowing.

 

She lifted her hand up to look more closely at the stone tucked into the silver setting in case the light had just hit it funny and her mind had decided to play tricks on her. She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or terrified to find the light had done no such thing.  She had no explanation for it and she had a sense of dread that she was wearing something that was currently producing a light from within itself when it had no light source. She felt the wind pick up around her, much like it had a few weeks ago when she had been searching for Daisey on the estate, her back growing stiff, nervous that she might be going through that experience again, only there was no exhaustion to blame it on this time.  She heard a voice in her ear, carried on the wind, far away and thin but enough for her to hear it. It spoke in a language she didn’t know but somehow understood, and it was insistent.

 

Cuimhnich.   _Remember_

Tha thu de a fuil.   _You are of her blood._

Tha thu ceart.   _It is your right._

Cuimhnich.   _Remember_

 

“Myrna?” She heard Bruce over the sound of wind and word, snapping her back to reality.  She felt very out of sorts, the wind gone and no words echoing in her ears that belonged to an unfamiliar voice.  She looked down at her hand and her ring was normal once more, no light shining from it now. She caught her breath, trying to keep her voice steady as she answered him, completely unsure of what he had said before all of this had happened, mind racing as she tried to catch up.

 

“Erm, sorry, I missed what you… I missed what you said, I was distracted.” She said, not sure how to say that without sounding insane or flippant as she looked around the yard for some evidence of what had just happened.  It was as quiet and dark as it had been when she came outside to talk, leaving her perplexed.

 

“I was asking how the talent show went…” He asked again, Myrna bringing herself back to the conversation even though she was having to work hard not to panic.  It felt like she was being gas-lighted, her whole body buzzing at knowing something was happening but not knowing why. She answered his questions, keeping her responses as easy going as she could manage as her heartbeat slowed and her back relaxed from being completely ramrod straight.  

 

_What the hell was that?_

 

Her body might have let itself come down from fight or flight , but her mind certainly hadn’t.  This was getting old. She had no idea what was going on with herself, if she was losing it or if something was happening to her that she didn’t have the ability to explain.  She reminded herself it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility for it to be otherworldly. The man she loved was currently on a jet looking for a man who could swim the ocean depths without scuba gear.  They shared a friend who had been alive for thousands of years, the daughter of legends and myths. Not to mention he was doing so under the impression an alien force of some kind was coming to destroy earth. Which he would undoubtedly fight while dressed like a bat.  Why was it so impossible for her to believe she wasn’t nuts?

 

_Because it is nuts, Myrna._

 

She told Bruce how things were going in her normal, humdrum life.  No nuttiness whatsoever and no she wasn’t seeing things. The conversation staying on topic, though Myrna found herself glancing down at her hand every few seconds, nervous to find the stone glowing again and relieved to see it wasn’t.  By the time Bruce had to let Myrna go because they were close to landing at their latest stop and she had to say goodbye to him for the evening, she’d lost count of the number of times she had checked. She was so distracted by it as she was ready to hang up, it took Bruce saying her name once more for her to focus again.

 

“Myrna…” She heard him say her name softly, her eyes looking up as though he were there even though she knew he wasn’t.  He had felt so close when he said it, she’d honestly thought he might be and it made her wish more than ever he was.

 

“Bruce?” she said, mind still wandering off to places unknown after the latest bout of strange, even though she wanted nothing more than the only thing she thought about to be him right now.  Good thing wishing wasn’t always useless, his next words providing her with what she’d hoped for, even briefly.

 

“I love you.”  

 

Myrna felt the world stop again, only this time it was of her own doing as she heard it.  It was still a rarity in everyday conversation, but it _wasn’t_ the first time Bruce had said those three,very important words.  The first time, they had both been surprised as it escaped his lips during their argument over Bruce bugging her phone.  Myrna had always trusted Bruce implicitly and they could joke about it now, but she had been serious in her anger that he’d meddled with her things and invaded her privacy, a privacy she should have regardless of how serious their relationship was.  Not only did she wonder what he had been reading or listening to when she texted and called Penni or her parents, especially as those conversations inevitably included him and how things were going, good or bad. It had made her feel there was an innate distrust of her on his part, of where she was and what she was doing.  She was ashamed now, to say a small part of her wondered if it was because he _wasn’t_ entirely sure she was trustworthy; the penniless teacher trying to lock down the wallet of Gotham’s richest for her school and all that tabloid garbage. His access to such technology, thanks to those billions and his continued quest as Batman allowing him the opportunity to find out if that’s what she was doing. Or maybe it was _because_ he was Batman he was checking to see if she would be careless with his secrets.

 

She recognized there was enough evidence to the contrary to show her she was being unfair, but self-doubt was an ugly thing; made worse when their relationship was already extraordinary by so much that was either out of their control or a well established part of their lives.  She _was_ a penniless teacher trying to keep her life’s work afloat, he _was_ Batman and trying to save the world, those facts could do nothing but permeate into every aspect of their lives and seed some truly painful doubts.  Those doubts escaped her through a mixture of frustration and also an overwhelming desire to get them out in the open, so if it were true they could either talk it through or make a decision.   She’d said her piece, Constitution in hand, Bruce had said his, Patriot Act and all, infuriating Myrna into saying if that’s how he felt, then she didn’t want either of them to be stuck in something they didn’t believe in, though she knew if anyone felt that way, it wouldn’t be her.   It was then, in a rare moment of emotional outburst that Bruce made it very clear how he felt about the situation.

 

 _“It isn’t that I don’t believe in what we have or I don’t trust_ **_you_ ** _\-- I don’t trust the_ **_world_ ** _with you.”_

 

_“What does that even mean?!”_

 

 _“It_ **_means_ ** _I LOVE YOU and I don’t want to lose you.”_

 

It had made Myrna go silent, looking at him from across the room in minor shock; Bruce looking just as surprised he’d manage to say it out loud and as soon as he had.  Despite every intention from them both not to rush, every moment in the last year seemed to have been poised to make sure they did. Two naturally cautious people, having gone through enough in their lives to question the sincerity of every person who stepped into their circle,  suddenly finding they wanted to be around each other more than just when they could work it into their schedules; sharing a home, their secrets and now, a spoken declaration of what they felt for one another. It made Myrna think, after all this time of believing it was rushing to want to love someone with your whole heart almost immediately after knowing them, maybe she had just discovered the person she was supposed to be with from the beginning and it wasn’t rushing at all.  She gave him a second to add a caveat or a gruff, very Bruce-like disclaimer about what he had meant, but he didn’t; just looked at her, the surprise gone as he waited for a response from her.

 

Now when he said it, it felt comfortable and right; occasionally sending a thrill through her to hear because he used the words sparingly, preferring to show her through actions that he cared for her.  Myrna preferred that too, but didn’t mind to hear it when he said it anyway. It appeared today was a day she could stand to hear it. She smiled, letting it sink in as she looked up at the stars hanging in the dark blanket of the night sky.

 

“I love you too.” She responded, the line going dead as Bruce hung up.  She let her hand holding her phone fall to her side as she continued to watch the stars above her, thinking about all the times she’d wished on one of them when she was little, waiting for miracles and dreams to come true.  Her ten year old self would probably think her life had been a nightmare in comparison to what she had expected to come of all those wishes, but grown Myrna was wise enough to recognize the path had been hard, but worth it. Even now as she wondered if she wasn’t losing her marbles.

 

* * *

 

 

Bruce set his phone down and leaned back in his seat with a sigh, looking out the window beside the stuffed leather chair.  He watched the clouds change shape as the jet banked beginning its descent toward the tiny landing strip attached to the even tinier airport just outside a mountain range, that protected the village in Iceland Bruce had tracked his latest sighting of Arthur Curry to.  Though if being snowed out of contact from the rest of the world, including the ability to receive much needed supplies was protection, Bruce was curious what they considered exposure. Alfred came back into the cabin of the jet, a customary tray of last minute coffee in hand.

 

“I’ve just spoken to the controller at the port; he doesn’t think it should be more than half an hour or so before we’ve landed-- though his estimate _is_ based off if they’ve managed to move all of the planes currently housed there out of the way.  Apparently this is the largest plane they’ve received in this particular airport.” He said as he sat the tray down on the table between them, handing Bruce his own cup before taking his own and sitting back in the open chair across from him.

 

“Can’t imagine why.” Bruce answered as he took a sip from his cup of coffee, the bitter aftertaste biting at his tongue.  It was a blessed drink, coffee, one he was grateful to have even at its most bitter when he was working.

 

“I shall hazard a guess and say it might have something to do with this airport being nothing more than a glorified dirt road that rarely sees more than biplanes that barely survived the war.” Alfred stated with some authority as he also took a drink from his cup.  

 

“Which war?” Bruce asked, Alfred shrugging, the state of the airport here hardly his biggest concern.

 

“Any war.”

 

Bruce shook his head, pondering Alfred’s sanity as he leaned forward and slid a few papers around from the pile on the desk ahead of him. Reading the notes that ARGUS and Luthor had compiled on Arthur Curry for what felt the hundredth time, just on this mission alone.  Although what little anyone knew of him, Bruce found he could relate to Curry on some level; the two of them were expert loners, tending to take care of their business on their own terms, whatever it might be, fighting for themselves when necessary. Gruff exteriors aside, the last stories they had heard before heading for this little village had portrayed Curry as a concerned citizen, or so it would seem; a man with abilities that allowed him to swim through some of the coldest waters imaginable, bringing nets full of fish to shore for those trapped by snowed in mountain ranges and iceberg laden harbors,  all of which preventing travel and deliveries of any kind. There was some hope, thanks to this knowledge, that Curry might be empathetic to the possibility Earth and its inhabitants were in danger. Obviously, this would be ideal, so all of this time spent looking for him wasn’t at risk of being wasted and still leave them a man short.

 

“How is Miss Myrna then?” Alfred asked after allowing Bruce a moment to scan the documents again.  The older man having found things to do around the plane so the two might have a conversation in relative privacy.  He had been pleased to find Bruce so willingly throwing himself into a relationship after many years of keeping himself at a distance from anything that even remotely looked like one.  With the demise of Superman and the humbling it had given him, Alfred could see Bruce had discovered, thankfully not too late, that he might want to reconsider losing what had been before him the whole time.  Alfred was just happy it had been Miss Myrna who managed that spark for him, as so many other options would have been ghastly to have dealt with over the last year. He had high hopes that Bruce would make an honest woman out of her, sooner rather than later and the two would provide him a brand new and youthful Wayne to take on as his latest charge.  For now, he would have to continue to wait impatiently.

 

“She says she’s fine.” He said as he glanced up from the pile ahead of him.  Alfred recognizing from the look on Bruce’s face that all was not as well as perhaps she had let on.

 

“You don’t seem convinced of that.” Alfred responded, a small twinge of worry making its mark across his brow.  Bruce let go of the papers in his hand and leaned back in his seat once more, fingers lacing together as he set them in his lap.

 

“She hasn’t been back to the house since the evening of the day we left.” He said, Alfred allowing his shoulders to raise as he decided to play devil’s advocate.

 

“She knew we may be gone for awhile.  It’s possible she took it as an opportunity to visit with Miss Penni-- you _know_ the two of them are quite close.”

 

“We’ve been gone for weeks at a time before, Alfred.  She’s never stayed away from the house for longer than a few days-- This time, she hasn’t gone back at all since we left.” Bruce said, knowing Myrna was perfectly capable of making decisions for herself.  He wasn’t upset if she didn’t want to stay in the house alone, but it felt like there was more to it than she was letting on, it was a feeling he couldn’t shake.

 

“But she said she was alright?”

 

“She said she was fine, just catching up with Penni.” Bruce said, knowing he was doing exactly what he had promised Myrna he wouldn’t do in being overprotective.  He knew he had a tendency to be that way about her. He was never insincere when he said he loved her-- he may not say it frequently and he would never be confused for a romantic, but he what felt for her was genuine.  She had been a light for him after he had fallen low with the realization he’d been had by Luthor. The death of Superman, although not by his hand had been a difficult pill to swallow and Myrna had spent many days reminding him that he was not the villain and she was there to prove it to him.  Holding her each night since then, whether in an intimate embrace or watching her sleep had proven an effective reminder that he wasn’t alone and how deeply he felt what he did for her. So if there was even the slightest chance Myrna was in danger or afraid of something or _someone_ — He wasn’t sorry to say it upset him, ready to do whatever was necessary to make that fear go away.  

 

“And despite her reassurances, you still feel there is reason to be concerned.”

 

“I don’t know what it is, Alfred— I can tell when she isn’t saying something and with her being away from the house for this long, something isn’t right.” He answered as the cabin speakers let out a small ding to remind them they were going to be landing soon, the two of them preparing themselves.

 

“What are you going to do about it?” Alfred asked, knowing Bruce would be more than willing to move heaven and earth if he felt it necessary.  Bruce let out another frustrated sigh as the plane descended into the thick clouds below.

 

“I would start by looking back through the security footage of the estate— if I didn’t have a mountain range to climb…” he said looking at Alfred who adjusted his glasses at the suggestion Bruce would be doing all the work on this one.  “If you could pull the archives up and look through them while I check out the validity of this Curry story— maybe see if something happened she hasn’t told me about yet…” He said, Alfred nodding. The older man knew Myrna would be unhappy to be checked up on, but if Bruce was correct, there may be a valid reason for him to worry. It wasn’t unlikely the young woman had elected not to tell him something because she knew he was working hard to put this team together.  She had stated in conversations with Alfred before, she didn’t want to distract Bruce from what was clearly an important mission. So if something _had_ happened, it stood to reason she would keep quiet until Bruce was more available.  Not to mention she was wondrously, if not irritatingly independent. Something Alfred admired and Bruce found incredibly attractive but annoyingly difficult to work around when she might need their help. As Bruce was the same way, it left Alfred to be the grown up in the room often, the two of them driving him up a wall frequently with their need not to inconvenience or show weakness where there was none.

 

“Very well.  I shall go through them with a fine tooth comb, sir.” He said, Bruce giving him a grateful look from across the table; especially that he wasn’t going to start a conversation on why that might seem strange to anyone else were they listening.  A final dinging sound rang across the speakers as the plane drew closer to the airport and Bruce finally learning if traveling all this way had been for nothing.

 

“Thank you, Alfred.” Bruce added after a moment, the older man giving him a half smile and a nod as he looked out the window beside his chair.  The Wayne family had a strange way of doing things, but plenty could be said of their loyalty to those they loved.

 

“Of course, sir.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce finds the Aquaman, but as expected is less than successful at recruiting than he'd hoped and heads home to Gotham empty-handed...

Bruce stood in the middle of the ramshackle meeting house that stood in the center of the village.  The people there had seen him as he descended down the tiny and crumbling trail from the mountain range that blocked them in.  So unused to seeing a stranger out this far during their winter, most of the villagers had come out to watch him as he walked toward the meeting house where their mayor was currently seated and waiting for him.  They stared at the dark haired man, bundled in thick clothing and a month’s worth of beard growth across his jaw. They had then all proceeded to push their way into the broken down building after him, wondering what it was he wanted and why he was here.  It became clear as he began asking questions and located in the crowd, one man who stood out in comparison to the others with their pale skin, blue-eyes and nearly white hair. Bruce knew from the second he saw him it was Arthur Curry, but in an effort not to upset him by knowing too much, he had put the request to find him out to everyone in attendance.  At the moment, no one was biting, which was a good sign that Curry’s assistance in putting food on their tables had made him worthy of their loyalty, but was making this conversation lengthy. After a few stories about the icebergs in their harbor preventing someone from joining them via the tide, Bruce made it clear he knew that this person didn’t come by ship; offering a reward to anyone willing to set a meeting between himself and the man he was looking for.  Laughter had followed, of course, which led to Bruce realizing there were old and rough drawings of the pattern he had been seeing since delving into Luthor’s research and preparing for trouble to arrive. It was at this point Curry became aggressive toward Bruce’s questions, moving closer, ice-blue eyes fixed on him.

 

“You should get out.” He said, voice clearly warning Bruce not to pursue this line of questioning, but obviously that wasn’t an option and Bruce had been in enough situations like this to know what to expect.  Even if it lead to a sprain or two.

 

“Can you at least point me toward Atlantis?” He asked, tilting his head expectantly, knowing he would be hitting a nerve with that remark.  He was absolutely correct and within a millisecond he felt the man’s hands at his chest, gripping his coat lapels and throwing him up against one of the already cracked and crumbling walls.  Bruce prepared himself for impact, his own hands grabbing at the wrists of his attacker as his lungs expelled air without his permission as his back made contact with the wall; the Atlantean using considerable force as he tried to attach him to the wall through sheer will.  He heard the angry growl and saw the suspicious eyes focus on him from where he hung a few feet above the floor. Giving himself a second to refill his recently assaulted lungs, Bruce looked down from where he was being held, a grim smile on his face.

 

“Arthur Curry,” he said, making it plain he knew who he had been talking to, the bearded and wild-haired man remaining quiet as Bruce continued, “also known as protector of the oceans; the Aquaman.”  He listed off all the known names Curry had been given as he helped villagers in this backwater area. Tilting his head as far as he could in his current predicament to give Curry a look that said he wasn’t fighting back and didn’t need to be crushed during this conversation.  It was difficult to tell given the snarl that was still threatening to escape him as the ice colored eyes searched his face for some sign he knew who he was.

 

“I hear you can talk to fish.” he added, a flash of annoyance crossing Curry’s face as he considered his next move.  Thankfully, rather than ripping his head off right then and there, Arthur elected to drop him, Bruce landing on his feet and readjusting his clothing from cutting off his airway.  Gesturing for him to follow, Arthur crossed the room, the villagers watching the exchange quickly moving out of the way for him, creating a path for them to exit from. Every single one of them now even more curious what would happen to the stranger once they left this building; if their savior was going to give him a chance to speak, or simply kill him once he was out of eyesight of the village. Not in a mood for murdering it seemed, Arthur gave Bruce five minutes to explain what he wanted before either Bruce left, or he did. Bruce packing why he was here in as little time as possible as they walked away from the village and toward one of the shorelines nearby.  After explaining who he was, what he did as Batman and that he needed help protecting the world, the two walked for a moment in relative silence, the only sound the crunching of their boots against the rock littered shore.

 

“So let me get this straight, you do it dressed like a bat-- like an actual bat.” Was the first thing Curry responded to, Bruce sighing inwardly that this was what everyone focused on, rather than the task at hand if and when they found out his secret identity.  It wasn’t an easily explained point that he had feared bats himself, so used that fear to create a persona that would do the same to the criminals of Gotham. But, he supposed that kind of psychology was lost on a man who couldn’t care less about striking fear into someone through dramatics as he was simply  _ hitting  _ them.

 

“It’s worked for 20 years in Gotham.” Bruce he said simply, that much was true.  There would always be crime to fight, but he’d done his share. Arthur looked at him incredulously as he thought about what he knew of Gotham.

  
  


“Oh that shithole.” 

 

“When the fight comes, we’ll need you.” Ignoring the slight, Bruce focused on what it was he was here for.  An enemy from the stars was coming, when they would arrive he couldn’t say, but when they did, it wasn’t going to be pretty.  Bruce wasn’t necessarily surprised when Arthur shook his head, eyes now planted firmly on the waterline drawing closer to them as they walked.

 

“Don’t count on it Batman.”

 

“Why not?” Bruce asked, unsurprised but still irritated that it didn’t seem to matter if the world was in danger of being burnt to a crisp by who knows what.

 

“‘Cause I don’t like you coming here, digging into my business and getting into my life.  People from Atlantis say ‘Do this.” Now you say ‘Do that.’ I want to be left alone.” He said, Bruce understanding that more than Curry would ever know, but it didn’t change the fact him going back into the ocean and hiding wouldn’t stop whatever was coming and Bruce needed more people with abilities like his to step forward.  He was also becoming annoyed he’d come all this way and it was turning out exactly like he’d expected it to, a waste of time. He couldn’t help when that irritation was apparent in his response to Arthur’s self-serving answer.

 

“Is that why you help these people out here in the middle of nowhere?  ‘Cause you can just leave?”

 

“I help them because no one else does.” Arthur snapped as he reached the edge of the water, tense and ready to get out of here now that he’d been discovered.  Bruce wasn’t going to let it go that easily though, trying to remind him that he was on land and with these people for a reason; that he could make keeping them safe more than just bringing them fish on occasion.

 

“If you wanna protect them, you need to work with me.” He demanded, Arthur grabbing the bottom of the cable knit sweater he was wearing and yanking it over his head to reveal a muscular torso covered in intricate tattoos, in a design Bruce suspected was traditional to Atlantis.

 

“Strong man is strongest alone… Ever heard of that?” Arthur asked, Bruce shaking his head at the clear butchery to that particular saying.  It was an obvious excuse not to join forces for Curry and Bruce couldn’t tell if it was because the man was afraid or just that self motivated.

 

“That’s not a saying, that’s the opposite of what the saying is.”

 

“Yeah.  Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” Curry said kicking off his shoes as he stepped into the water, the cold not affecting him at all as he did so.  Bruce made one last attempt to play to any heroic bone that might exist in Arthur Curry’s body. 

 

“Ever hear of Superman?  He died fighting next to me.” He said, trying to remind the man in some way that Earth was no longer protected by Superman’s power, but it had the opposite effect he’d hoped as Curry waded into the water deeper.

 

“My point exactly.” He answered, Bruce looking away for a moment as it became clear this had been a pointless and wasted effort before he made a last ditch attempt to gather information if he couldn’t gather help.

 

“What’s in the three boxes?” He asked, maybe if they knew what they were for, they could devise a plan to capture or destroy them as necessary, maybe even ending the conflict before it started so it wouldn’t matter if Curry joined them.  But Arthur wasn’t in a helping mood now that Bruce had interrupted his anonymity, advising him that he had been identified accurately enough to be found. He turned from where he stood, calf deep as he walked backwards into the freezing waters of the Atlantic, lifting his arms in a shrug.

 

“It’s ancient history.” He said, Bruce looking him in the eye, maintaining his composure but lost as to how anyone could be so unwilling to offer in the slightest bit of help when it was clearly needed.  Ancient history or not, it was relevant now and necessary to the world currently being in danger.

 

“What is it?  Mankind’s melting the polar ice caps, destroying the ecosystem, they’ve got it coming?” he asked, wondering what it was, really, that made Curry turn his nose up at the prospect of helping him.  Was he really afraid of the possibility of dying if there were a villain coming? Arthur shrugged again and gave a sarcastic smile.

 

“Hey, I don’t mind if the oceans rise.”

 

“How about if they boil?” Bruce asked, curious what might set Curry into a motion in changing his mind, if it would take the destruction of his last refuge for him to come to their aid.  It was then Arthur decided the conversation, with one last once over the man standing on the shoreline, Arthur now waist deep in sea water.

 

“Dressed like a bat.  You’re out of your mind Bruce Wayne.” He said as he raised his arms up and dove into the briny depths, only the slightest of ripples following him out into the harbor as swam away without so much as a goodbye for his strange friend.  Bruce took a deep breath as he watched his last hope of Curry joining them disappear into open waters. Rubbing his face out of anger and frustration, he turned back the way he came, toward home.

 

“Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

 

* * *

 

After the disappointment of spending another week looking for Arthur Curry, only to find him and be turned away, Bruce was back on the jet with Alfred and on his way back to Gotham.  He had cleaned up, wearing clothes that made him feel like he was close to finding civilization as he ran his razor over the last vestiges of his beard; knowing Myrna would not be all that excited for his caveman impersonation if he left it unshaven. He heard Alfred talking to him from just outside the open bathroom door. 

 

“So you say you have no way of reconnecting with this Aquaman?” He asked as he set down coffee on the table and waited for Bruce to finish his clean up. 

 

“Oh, I put a tracking device in his coat-- but he left without it.” Bruce said as he rinsed off his razor and reached for a towel to wipe off the leftover traces of shaving cream on his jaw. “May, in fact, not have been his coat.” He added, more to himself than to Alfred, as despite his bringing food to the hungry, the wild fish man seemed unfazed by normal human conventions of morality.  Checking his face one last time before throwing the towel on the rack beside the sink, he exited the bathroom and joined Alfred in the main cabin. A thought occurred to him as he spotted the copies of Luthor’s research on the table, Alfred poring over it while waiting for Bruce to finish his mission. 

 

“Those squares from Luthor’s notes.  I think they must be containers of some kind.” Bruce said as Alfred handed him his coffee, the older man questioning that thought. 

 

“Of what?” He asked, Bruce shrugging his shoulders as he crossed his arms and looked toward the screens that would hopefully shed some light on the remainder of the already limited list of metahumans they were tracking. 

 

“I don’t know, money, power.  Something worth starting a war over.” He answered as Alfred leaned over the table to push a button that turned the screens on, pulling forward the profile of their next option. 

 

“Well we’ve had luck with one person on the team list.  Barry Allen, of Central City. He’s completely off the grid-- squatting I think.  Moves suddenly and often.” Alfred explained as the videos of Barry they had on file replayed beside the profile Alfred had put together of all scraps of information they’d managed to gather in such a short time. He had been sifting through every database and CCTV system they had access to with facial recognition and keywords, but they still had yet to find the young man. 

 

“Disappearing act.” Bruce responded, though it seemed they were all disappearing acts.  His failure with Aquaman still fresh for him. Alfred nodded, adding a bit of helpful information he’d managed to dig up whole awaiting Bruce’s return. 

 

“But he does visit his father.  In prison-- for murdering his mother.” He said, knowing that last part didn’t sound very inspiring. 

 

“Jesus.” 

 

“Young Barry always protested his father’s innocence, but he was nine and nobody listened to him.” Alfred added, he had seen some of the evidence used to convict Henry Allen and how it had been handled.  He wasn’t entirely convinced of the man’s guilt and he was astounded a jury managed to convict with that same evidence. Bruce nodded, it was an unfortunate truth of the world, that terrible things happened, but he understood deeply what it was like growing up without a mother, at least he could say it wasn’t at the hand of his father, nor had the man who had actually done the terrible thing been left unaccountable for his actions.  As he looked at the screens before him, he asked the next logical question.

 

“We have somebody at the prison?” 

 

“Oh yeah.  We’ll find the address.”  Alfred answered confidently.  Bruce having as many connections as he did in the city, had made the process of finding someone to assist them a bit easier than them traveling halfway around the world to find this Arthur Curry they’d been searching for.  Bruce walked across the cabin to set his cup of coffee down.

 

“What about, uh,  Diana?” He asked, the Amazon having returned to Paris not long after the battle with Doomsday.  They had seen and spoken to her off an on over the course of the year, but always, it seemed, at Diana’s will.  They had her contact information, but it was abundantly clear she would find them, not the other way around. Alfred on the other hand was not amused that Bruce was under the impression he was the only one on the jet who was capable of reaching out to her, especially the one potential teammate they actually had contact information for.

 

“Well you have her number.” Alfred responded annoyed, as though Bruce wasn’t totally aware they were in possession of that information. 

 

“You could have called her.” He said peevishly, which he found simply egged Alfred onto the next round of sudden and confusing, chastising.

 

“Oh!  Perhaps I should fly to Paris with a handwritten note, will you be Bruce’s teammate, check yes or no?” Alfred posited, Bruce feeling very much like he was under attack for something, but was still trying decipher why and what for.  Crossing his arms and looking back at the screens as a hopefully clear signal he was ready to move on.

 

“I’m only interested in her skill-set.” He said firmly, but Alfred didn’t seem so sure, which Bruce found sparked aggravation in him as Alfred readjusted his glasses and let out a small snort that sounded less than convinced.

 

“Oh, I’m sure you are.” He said it as though Bruce were still the same man from a year ago, one who was not interested in a real relationship with anyone and ran through women like kleenex.  Certainly not as though he had a woman who he adored waiting for him in Gotham. Diana was a beautiful woman, intelligent and fierce, no doubt about that and had Myrna not come into his life and given him reason to reassess his outlook on how he wanted to live that life and with whom, he probably  _ would _ be interested in more than just her ability to fight.  It didn’t change the fact Alfred’s barb felt misplaced this time and before his irritation became more apparent, Bruce changed the subject, gesturing toward the screen that contained at least one more profile of a potential teammate and hopefully a new topic.

 

“Can we?” He asked, short and clear, which thankfully did not pass by Alfred unnoticed, the older man returning to the topic at hand without further hesitation.  

 

“Ah, well facial recognition is a bit dodgy on this one, but they've got a partial match-- Victor Stone, genius IQ, football scholarship to GCU  _ and  _ deceased.” He said, referring to the video of the young man who appeared to have been healed or changed in some fashion by an alien artifact, none the likes of which Bruce or Alfred had ever seen before.  It had seemed to be a torturous procedure for the boy, but effective, the video having cut out before they had seen for sure; Bruce felt his shoulders sink in disappointment, however, at the words he was dead.

 

“Figures.  Fairy tales and ghost stories.” He said still staring at the photos now pulled up on Victor Stone’s profile and sighing.  A team of five was already a sad alliance to protect the planet with, at this rate, they’d be down to three and that’s if they were lucky.  Bruce wasn’t sure how they could possibly be effective with so few, but he supposed they would have to do the best they could with what they had.  If they managed to have anything at all. Strangely enough, he felt like he’d gone through worse odds and managed to survive anyway. Alfred looked at Bruce from across the table, a thoughtful look on his face as he thought about their probability of success as well.

 

“One misses the days when one’s biggest concerns were exploding wind-up penguins.” He mused, Bruce walked back to the padded leather seat across from Alfred, sitting down and leaning back as he gave a silent laugh.

 

“The simple life.” He responded, it was true; twenty years ago, when they had set out on this mission, neither one of them was sure Bruce would survive long enough to make a difference.  All the villains and monsters he’d had to fight seemed like caricatures of evil in comparison to what was coming. Alfred went morose, eyes meeting Bruce’s from where he sat as they pondered quietly.

 

“I don’t recognize this world.” He said, the world had changed so much, even just in the time he’d been alive.  He’d seen good people, people he cared for brutally murdered and used to the gain of creatures who looked human but certainly couldn’t claim to be.  Now the Earth seemed to be in constant threat of being burnt down by invaders that didn’t even share the same solar system. It would sound absurd to anyone who hadn’t lived through it, it sounded absurd to him and he HAD lived through it.  Bruce looked away from him for a moment as he considered what they were dealing with now.

 

“I don’t have to recognize it.  Just have to save it.” A moment of silence passed by them again until Alfred seemed to remember something suddenly.  He tapped at the controls on the table again, the profiles of the metahumans disappearing and being replaced with the family sight of the glasshouse’s security system.

 

“Speaking of not recognizing things--” He began as he pulled up various files onto the screen, “I went through the security system archives as you requested, Master Wayne.” He said, Bruce sitting up in his seat as he was reminded he had asked yet another favor of Alfred before he had left a week ago.

 

“What did you find?” He asked, hoping perhaps his imagination had simply been on overdrive and there was no need to be concerned.  The number of files Alfred had pulled up on the screen however, was making it fairly clear that he wasn’t going to get his wish on that one.  Alfred looked up from the controls he was working, giving Bruce a perturbed glance before he pulled up the first file. It was of one of the cameras set to watch the back of the house, leading into the forested areas of the estate.  Before he set the recording to play, Alfred looked to explain.

 

“As you noted Miss Myrna had left the glasshouse right after we left, I thought it best to start there.” He said, Bruce nodding, waiting for whatever Alfred had to show him.  The old man pressing play, the recording jumping to life to show the house as they both remembered it the day they left. They saw Myrna as she came to the back door, she looked tired, Bruce feeling guilty for that as she’d remained awake to see him off but otherwise she appeared fine.  She pushed the door open to let them out, Hank doing as he usually did and running for the lakeside while Daisey, shot off into the forest after a squirrel. He could see Myrna yelling for her to come back, but when that didn’t work she ran after her, feet bare and hair whipping behind her.  When she didn’t return right away, Bruce looked back at Alfred who raised a hand to reassure Bruce to keep watching. Although there was no sound, it became clear as the recording progressed something was happening; the trees bending and twisting in a wind that had come from nothing. It lasted a few seconds, high winds ripping at leaves and pushing ripples across the water until finally it died almost as immediately as it had started.  

 

“Do we have any picture from other cameras on the property?” He asked, but Alfred shook his and pointed back to the screen, Bruce looking up just in time to see Myrna coming back into view, Daisey following her obediently now, the dog looking at her mistress in a way Bruce couldn’t even describe.  Myrna stepped onto the deck, waking her other dog from his quick nap and sending them back into the house. It was at this moment Bruce felt every nerve in his body fire at the same time as a strange man exited the forest behind her, Myrna unaware he was coming. Dark jeans, braided hair and the clear signs of a full torso tattoo peeking from beneath his t-shirt, he seemed to sneak up on her, Bruce growing more concerned by the second, until finally the stranger opened his mouth and alerted her to his presence.  Bruce was pleased to see, though he didn’t know how she knew to, she turned faster than he’d ever seen her move before and immediately formed a defensive posture. Although the camera allowed him to see very detailed video it didn’t have sound; he could see she was demanding to know what he was doing there, he could also see her eyes and they were afraid. The stranger kept smiling at her in a way that made Bruce itch to throttle him, it was a smile that said he knew her and had every reason to be there when in fact, by her own expression, he did not.  He saw Myrna point back up the road, apparently telling him to leave, the man complying but not before he held out his hand, something in the palm of it. Never taking her eyes off him, Myrna gestured toward the ground, keeping her distance from him.

 

“Good girl,” Bruce heard Alfred say as the two of them watched, “don’t let him get too close.” He said, Bruce agreeing.  She had learned from her experience with Thomas Cooper, not to give an inch to someone reaching for you. He was proud of her and angry that aside from this recording, the security system he had paid a lot of money for to protect his property and now Myrna, had alerted him to none of this.  He felt his hands unclench as the stranger dropped what he had been holding onto the deck and turned, disappearing into the trees once more, Myrna waiting a little longer, watching for him until she bent down and picked up what he had left. Upon watching, it became apparent he had returned a necklace, the one Bruce could only assume he’d given her for her birthday as she always wore it as she returned it to its place; looking around once more before she went back into the house.  He could see her from the edge of the camera’s view as she pulled up the security system feed, he assumed looking for some kind of sign from it that it had picked up the man’s unwanted entry to the property. She left several minutes later, the video cutting out after that. Bruce looked at Alfred who knew what was coming next.

 

“I have pored over all of the logs and not once did the system archive a breach that we weren’t immediately made aware of.  It logged Myrna searching through the archives at the same time this video was recorded, she found the same results.” He said, Bruce not sure if he should be glad his gut had told him to be concerned or upset that he’d had to depend on it to find this out.

 

“And the other files you have?” He asked as Alfred pulled them up one by one.

 

“This one was later in the same day, confirming Miss Myrna returned to the glasshouse to retrieve her personal items, I assume clothing for her stay with Miss Penni as well as the horses she claims are really dogs…  As you already know, she has not stayed at the house since.”

 

“The rest?” Bruce asked as he watched the video of Myrna entering the glasshouse at night, her head on a swivel as she did, grabbing her things and her dogs quickly before leaving as fast as she had arrived.  Although her face was set, he could tell she was nervous and he felt a knot of anger start tightening in his belly.

 

“Ah, I had gone over the last three weeks of archived footage and found nothing of note.  No sign of the stranger or any tampering with the system or property. If it were anyone but Miss Myrna, I might have considered this a one time event, perhaps something not worth being concerned over.  However…” He said, trailing off as he hesitated to pull up the other files for Bruce to see.

 

“However, what?” Bruce said as he stood, annoyed they were hours from reaching Gotham so he could see Myrna, ask her what had happened and if there was anything else she had neglected to tell him, make sure she was really alright.  Alfred pushed his glasses back on his nose as he proceeded, knowing this would likely make his charge more ruffled as he had already begun to pace the cabin floor like a caged animal. Alfred almost wished he had chosen to wait until they had arrived home, but he knew Bruce would have wanted to know now anyway.

 

“Alfred!” Bruce implored from where he stood, reminding the man he was waiting.  Alfred straightened his spine as he went back to his duties, with no more hesitation.

 

“Right-- Well, as I said, the stranger has not appeared back on the property in the past three weeks.   _ But  _ I felt it would be wise to check the recorded archives for the last year, or at least since Miss Myrna has become a more permanent resident at the estate.”  He pulled up another video, this one of the road leading to the glasshouse, the man, this time dressed differently pulling to the edge of the property on a motorcycle, hiding it in some brush before he disappeared into the forested areas of the estate again, the video flipping to another camera outside the house.  It was early evening, the sun still up as Myrna sat in one of the lounge chairs on the deck; paperwork spread out around her, one leg tucked under her, the other swinging off the side of the chair, long hair braided over her shoulder as usual, as she bent over a document she was completing. She was blissfully ignorant of the man who stood across the lake as though he belonged there, nothing he was doing drawing her attention she was so engrossed.

 

“This was nearly two months ago.  I have several others much like this one that go back further,” he said as he initiated them playing all at once, every single one some variation of her alone, or with himself or Alfred; the only constant in each of the videos where the man was present was Myrna.  “The first time he stepped foot on the property, however, was  _ this  _ night, a year ago.” He said, pulling the final recording forward, Bruce recognizing it almost immediately; the angle of the camera showing them the scene of he and Myrna together in the living room of the house, the two of them holding one another as they spoke.  A moment of conversation before Bruce lifted Myrna up and walked her to what was now their room, Myrna laughing and running her hands through his hair as he did; the lights going out, no more to be seen from the watchful eye of the camera. 

 

He didn’t need to see anymore to know what had happened next however, the two of them together after nearly losing one another because of his stupidity.  He’d made love to her and not as though it were going to be the last time, but just the beginning. They had chosen each other that night, making it one of the most important nights of their relationship.  Now there was a blight on it as he realized, once again, standing at the end of the trees that should have been providing them privacy, was this stranger, watching and waiting as the light went out. Bruce felt his blood boil, his thoughts immediately turning to his next steps in finding out all he wanted to know.  He was drawn back to the video as the man crouched down, dragging his fingers in the dirt as though writing something, but from this distance and it being night, no one would be able to read it but him. His mouth moved as though he had said something out loud and the trees were immediately harassed by strong wind, bending in time with each burst against them.  His lips moved again as though he were having conversation with himself, until finally he brushed the dirt clear and the trees went still as he turned and left the way he had come. Bruce didn’t know what his purpose in stalking Myrna was, but he would find out, anger pooling in his belly as he thought about it. It was one thing if this were directed at him, another if he were after Myrna.

 

“Facial recognition?” he demanded of Alfred, who gave him a look, reminding him that  _ he _ was not the one who had been on the property watching Myrna and therefore wasn’t deserving of Bruce’s wrath.

 

“I have been running it through local and statewide databases, nothing so far, but I will be widening the search to interpol.  Without knowing more about him, it’s a difficult starting point.” Alfred said, there were some characteristics that may ease their search, but nothing that was certain to make clear what his reasons were for trailing Miss Myrna were.

 

“Do whatever you need to, Alfred.  And while we’re figuring mysteries out, I’d like to know why the security system never registered him, if he tampered with it, has some sort of technology to block it, I don’t care.  I want to know.” He said.

 

“And Miss Myrna?” Alfred said, knowing Bruce would be treading on dangerous ground with her if he confronted her in the mood he was in.  He understood Bruce’s anger was directed at whoever this man was and the fact his own security had failed to even warn Miss Myrna of his presence.  He was very aware Bruce felt responsible for her safety, more so because of the nature of their relationship and Bruce’s feelings for her. He also knew Miss Myrna was loathe to be a reason Bruce might be hurt or fail at something, not wanting him to feel he was obligated to be her sole source of protection.  She also valued his trust, which included him allowing her privacy, something she had gone toe to toe with Master Wayne about before; most impressively too if anyone was wondering his opinion on the matter. Perhaps she would feel differently once she saw there was evidence it had not been a single incident but several, over the course of a year and Bruce’s concerns were valid, but Alfred prepared for her wrath either way.  Thankfully there were still several hours left in their journey back to Gotham to try to calm Bruce’s vexations. Or it would end up leaving him stewing and ready to rip someone’s head off before they even landed. He pitied the stranger for choosing the beloved of the Batman for whatever he had planned.

 

“I’ll handle Myrna.” Bruce said shortly, Alfred raising a brow questioningly at the tone Bruce had elected to use.

 

“You will, will you?” he questioned, Bruce turning to face him, ready to argue until he realized he was lashing out at the wrong people.  He let himself fall back into his seat and rubbed his neck.

 

“All of this is happening at once, there has to be a connection.” He muttered, thinking on Luthor’s warnings to him a year ago.  The bell had already been rung, he’d said; the death of Superman was only the beginning of Earth’s enemies coming from out of the woodwork to claim the planet and its people.  For all he knew this man wasn’t even human and he was one of those enemies; or it was completely unrelated and he would have to choose between being fully committed to protecting Earth, or fully committed to protecting Myrna.  He wasn’t sure he could do both if and when this danger was coming and naturally, he didn’t like being stuck in this position.

 

“We shall have to endeavor to find out, sir.  Regardless, we will make sure Miss Myrna is safe.” He said, Bruce looking up at his oldest friend, knowing of all the people in the world he could trust to be telling him the truth, it was Alfred.

 

“We have to, Alfred. If anything happens to her…” He said, finding he couldn’t finish the sentence because he didn’t want to think what he would do if he lost her.  Alfred nodded understandingly; he also loved Myrna, in a different way of course, but the loss would be felt deeply by him too if they did not determine who this man was and what he wanted before he did whatever he was planning.  A year was a long time to simply observe someone, but Miss Myrna’s circumstances were different than some and this stranger clearly knew it. Whoever he was. 

 

“I understand, sir.” Alfred answered gently.  Soon they would be returned to Gotham, Myrna in their sights and more than one set of eyes on the lookout for this stranger who was watching her.  It was impeccable timing, this man and the dangers that were coming for them all, but it seemed their lot in life and was a familiar enough stage for them all.

 

* * *

 

 

Myrna lifted one foot, rolling her ankle before setting it down and repeating with the opposite.  The movement relieving just enough soreness to keep her from kicking her shoes off in the middle of this ridiculous event and causing a tizzy.  Sighing she set her somewhat refreshed foot down, the heel of her shoe clicking satisfactorily against the tile floor she was standing on. One of the hardest parts of running any nonprofit organization was funding.  If you were very lucky, you already had the money to run whatever it was you did and if you weren’t, you showed up at events where the money was and shook hands, smiled pretty and hoped someone wrote you a check. It felt out of character for her and frankly, it was difficult enough finding someone you didn’t think was so slimy you couldn’t bear the thought of asking them for a dime.  Obviously, now that she was in a relationship with Bruce, it made it even more difficult because everyone assumed he would be paying her bills, the school’s included. And while Myrna wasn’t dumb enough to disagree that it  _ would  _ make her life infinitely easier to ask him to do so, knowing he would in a heartbeat, she simply couldn’t do it.  Some of it was pride that she had managed before him, so there was no reason to need that from him now, but also a very strong desire to make sure everyone knew that’s not why she was with him.  Inevitably the whispers of people gossiping around her led to them speculating and they always,  _ always _ came to the same conclusion, that any woman, but most especially one that didn’t have much to her name to begin with could only be with the likes of Bruce Wayne because he could write a check and not worry about it bouncing.  Ever.

 

He had asked once, shortly after they had slipped into a normal routine of her staying with him when she was up late working on yet another grant proposal, if they hadn’t yet reached a point in their relationship where she would be comfortable with Wayne Enterprises partnering with the academy in some way to make sure the school had enough funding.  He’d made sure to include that her authority on the education side of things would remain absolute, but they would simply make sure the school wouldn’t want for supplies, repairs or salaries when needed. She’d struggled with herself on that decision then and several days after, knowing it sounded idiotic to turn him down but she simply couldn’t accept.  She told him she didn’t normally care what other people thought about her, but in this instance she did. He was too important to her to ever let any tendril of doubt slip in that she wasn’t with him for anything but him. He’d given her the look he usually did when he thought she was being, well, her-- the one that made her crazy before he told her he was fine with a bunch of little old ladies thinking she was with him for his money, if it meant she was secure in knowing her school wasn’t going anywhere.  He said it so sincerely that Myrna basically threw herself at him, the night effectively spoken for and the question forgotten until whenever he asked again. 

 

She had agreed to host the latest event the Gotham City Educator Board had dreamt up in a push to get donors to see what the schools could offer and possibly to agree a few of them needed them the most.  Myrna, her staff and even the kids had spent the last week and a half getting the school ready, some of the older children grasping why it was important for them to make their building look presentable; the younger ones less inclined to help keep the place clean, but willing to provide artwork and projects for the masses to peruse when they came to visit.  Myrna had felt like a chicken with her head cut off, grateful to have Penni there with her to make sure everyone followed through on what was expected of them. Her friend here now too, Dr. Ennis (Myrna’s emergency doctor from a year ago and Penni’s now boyfriend), who had become a familiar face outside of work as well having arrived just a bit earlier than the rest of their guests at Penni’s request to help with last minute arrangements.  There were only so many ways you could dress up a school gymnasium for a cocktail level event, but they’d managed and now everyone was milling about, doing what they did at these gatherings. She saw Penni gesturing for Myrna to look behind her as subtle a move as she could manage from where she stood with Dr. Ennis, the look on her face one of concern and dare Myrna say it, dread. Unsure of who she should be expecting as she’d shaken hands with half of the city, Myrna turned, catching herself before she jumped back in unhappy surprise.

 

“Well, I’ll give you this, Swift.  Only you could turn a barn into an event hall…” The words left Leonard Berkowski’s lips with a sneer.  She wasn’t really surprised by his presence; it had been an open invitation to all members of the GCE board and their guests and although she hadn’t checked in with him to see if he was coming, she had assumed he would be.  Leonard never passed up an opportunity to mock Myrna or her school. He’d gotten particularly nasty now that it was fairly well known Myrna was with Bruce and the idea of poor, little church mouse Myrna with the likes of Bruce Wayne had a particularly greedy man more green with envy.  She assumed rather than play nice just in case Myrna was feeling generous enough to encourage Bruce to invest in an already financially sound program, he would rather burn every bridge between he and Myrna, making sure she believed completely he was a cockroach in an Armani suit. Myrna looked over his shoulder at Penni whose face had turned apologetic and a little worried as her hand came to rest on Dr. Ennis’ arm, capturing his attention from what he had been doing to look at his date.  When he followed her gaze and became confused at why Penni would be concerned about who Myrna was talking to, the dark haired woman began whispering furiously at him to inform him why they should both be concerned.

 

“Well, Leonard, we can’t all afford ballrooms and thousand dollar plate dinners.” She answered him, feeling her shoulders tightening as she fought herself over how much damage she would really cause to her reputation in this community if she laid Leonard out right here.  There were few people who made her wish violent thoughts just by existing but Leonard Berkowski was and always would be one as long as either of them taught in the same city.

 

“Obviously.” He said and if it had been anyone else, the sheer arrogant hatred behind it would have been astonishing.  Myrna shrugged trying to remind herself that no matter what he said, he was a small-minded man with one goal and it wasn’t education or showing at risk children a better way to live.  She lived a much better life than him, for all the faults he saw in her, Myrna knew were her better qualities and if she was going to be successful, living it rather than just speaking it was the only way she’d manage.  Didn’t mean she was above responding to him in a way he understood as she shrugged her shoulders delicately, knowing she had at least the rapt attention of two of her allies in the room.

 

“Leonard, the only thing obvious tonight-- is you… So many pockets, not enough hands to stick into them.  Am I right?” She said watching his tiny little eyes bug behind his glasses at her implication, the man gathering himself to his full 5’5 height (if one was being generous) as he grew rabid at Myrna fighting back.

 

“You would know, Swift.  You’ve got yours in the biggest pockets of all-- Though, I rather assume he prefers you put your mouth where  _ his  _ money is… Am I right?” He asked, Myrna wishing she could be shocked, Leonard had really brought his A game tonight.  She wanted to ask him how long he’d been waiting to say such a thing as they hadn’t seen each other but a few times over the course of the year and none of which he’d had time to get her alone.  He must have been stewing on that for months now. She started to respond when she saw the door of the gym open from the corner of her eye, interrupting her for a moment as someone walked through, feeling  a rush of joy as she realized who it was.

 

Bruce.

 

He was dressed for the event, expertly coiffed and ready to mingle, as usual, despite being the most reluctant mingler she’d ever met.  He hadn’t told her he was on his way back and even if he had, she would never have expected him to make himself presentable and have to muck through all of these people after being gone for so long.  No doubt he was tired from traveling and if he’d managed to talk Arthur Whatshisface into joining his team, he’d rather be working on preparations for that than being here. She looked back at Leonard with a renewed confidence, at least she knew where she stood with Bruce and it was more honest than Leonard had been with anyone in his life.

 

“I can’t speak for Bruce-- But maybe you could ask him yourself.” She said gesturing toward the door as Leonard turned and saw the man in question as he scanned the room, spotting Myrna and walking toward her.  For all his bluster Leonard might have been perfectly fine attacking Myrna but he still had a knee jerk reaction when around someone with more money than he’d ever have. Usually he reserved his comments for her and anyone who wouldn’t take it personally that he was being rude to her.  He was at least smart enough to know saying what he did in  _ front _ of the man with the money was a sure fire way to get blacklisted.  As the distance closed between them Leonard looked back at Myrna, eyes angry as though she had been the one to start this cat and mouse game of insults.  Deciding he wasn’t interested in continuing the conversation with Bruce, he took his leave, bending his head at the neck just enough to indicate she’d won this round.

 

“What a charmed life you lead, Myrna Swift.  It’s almost by… Magic.” He said, his voice changed from its usual pompous tone to a smoother, more commanding one that she’d never heard from him.  She found herself taken aback by the change and looked at him, brow wrinkling as he turned on his heel and walked away, long gone before Bruce made it to Myrna and by then she was so happy he was home she was willing to let all of what had just happened go.  

 

“What was that about?” Bruce said as reached her, watching as Berkowski scurried away,  knowing from previous experiences and Myrna’s own loathing of the man that any conversation with the rat faced man was inevitably unpleasant for her.  When he faced Myrna again he was both surprised to find she was looking at him with very apparent happiness, any upset Leonard might have caused her nowhere to be seen on her face as she did.

 

“You’re home!” she said delightedly, keeping her hands to herself even though she desperately wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him until he was sick of her.  Month long separations were hard to endure for anyone and Myrna had had to live through a few in the last year, finding it made his returns all the more sweet because it meant she loved him enough to miss him when he was gone.  Bruce smiled down at her, finding he felt the same way and had been ready to be near her since halfway over the Atlantic.

 

“I am… What was that about?” He repeated, Myrna shaking her head and brushing it off.  There were far more important things in life than worrying about Leonard Berkowski’s libel and innuendo of her character.

 

“A rat was being a rat.  That’s all.” She responded as Penni and Dr. Ennis extricated themselves from the sidelines and moved toward Bruce and Myrna.  Penni moving at a fast pace to get to Myrna and find out what had been said, Dr. Ennis rushing to catch up as she did. 

 

“What did that slimy, two faced—“ she started but was interrupted by a smooth English accent. 

 

“Darling…” He gently warned, knowing from the brief history he had been gifted moments earlier and his intimate knowledge of the passionate attitude Penni had about those she loved and those she loathed.  Penni looked a Myrna, annoyed her train of insults had been derailed but also recognizing it was for the best. She cleared her throat and tried again. 

 

“What did  _ Lord _ Berkowski want?” She asked more pleasantly, though the sarcasm was still there. She wouldn’t be letting that go anytime soon. If anyone deserves the ire they dredged up, it was Leonard Berkowski. 

 

“To let me know what he thought of our hosting the event. What else?” Myrna responded, brushing it off. There would be plenty of time to talk about it later and no doubt Berkowski would go out of his way to let her know in as many ways as he could what he thought. 

 

“I’ll start with his knees and work my way up.” Penni said through gritted teeth, feeling as most of those close to Myrna did, that the man was a nuisance that needed tending to. Myrna shook her head, grateful at least to have the support she did from her closest friend. 

 

“It’s ok, Penni. He’s a warped, frustrated man. Someday it will come back to bite him.  Let him fall on his own sword.” She said, not wanting to waste anymore time on Berkowski when Bruce was home and right here.  Penni nodded, understanding what she meant though she still had an overwhelming desire to find the little man in a parking lot somewhere.  Hoping to distract his dark haired beloved from her own thoughts, Dr. Ennis made a point to segue into another topic. 

 

“Mr. Wayne!  Good to see you, sir.” He said reaching his hand out to shake Bruce’s in greeting, “Penni said you’ve been out of the country this month.” He added, Bruce nodding, glad to move on in the conversation as well.  He only saw Ennis when he needed tending to, thankfully in the last year, he hadn’t been injured desperately enough to need checking over. He was aware, through Myrna, that the younger man had taken a keen interest in her friend Penni after meeting her while caring for Myrna when she’d been attacked.  Thus the doctor seemed to be settling into Gotham well, on retainer for Bruce and living comfortably as he cultivated something with Penni. 

 

“Always a pleasure, Ennis.” He responded, gripping the offered hand “Business had me away for a few weeks, but I’m glad to be back.” He said, looking down at Myrna, who gifted him with a smile.  He wasn’t being deceptive today, he really was glad to be back; it was just unfortunate he and Myrna were in public so he could show her how glad he was. The group made small talk for a little while longer, Penni asking questions about his trip that made sure Bruce was careful about what he said, not knowing what Myrna had told her about him being gone.  He knew Myrna had not shared his identity as the Batman with Penni, though he knew it sometimes bothered her to have to keep silent when the two of them shared everything else. He knew Alfred wasn’t always the kind of confidant she needed, and he was _very_ aware she wasn’t always at peace with his attempts to stop the dangers of the world, something she might like to be able to commiserate with someone who had known her far longer than the two of them had.  A similar situation arose with her parents, when they asked deeper questions about their relationship; Myrna close enough with her family that if he were anyone else, she would likely have told them. Having been invited to many family gatherings and events throughout the year, he could understand why Myrna cared for her parents as much as they did their daughter. He was thankful for her discretion, but it often worried him he was cutting her off from the very people she needed when the two of them were struggling because of his choices in life.  Myrna had reassured him throughout their relationship that she had known what she was getting into and it wasn’t enough to make her rethink anything. It was what it was and in the end, it kept Penni and her parents safer if they didn’t know. As was usual for Bruce he reminded himself frequently that this was why he’d spent twenty years carefully refraining from getting too close to anyone. The reminder was often countered with a similar reminder that had been until he had met Myrna. 

 

It wasn’t long before Myrna was called away to meet with someone important to the board she was hosting this event for and Bruce was left alone with Penni and Dr. Ennis.  He watched her as she made her way through the crowd, smiling and shaking hands with people as they stopped her to give their opinion on how things were going. She was not someone who enjoyed these kinds of things, Bruce knew the feeling all too well, but she handled them gracefully regardless.  As she finally reached her intended conversation, he found a month long separation had made him greedy for the sight of her. Sharing her so shortly after coming back to her was actually frustrating him, despite keeping a cool exterior. So he allowed himself the chance to admire her from afar as she spoke with some board-member he didn’t know.  She was wearing a knee length white dress, a pattern of flowers across it, the neckline hinted it was off the shoulder, but Myrna, ever the conservative dresser had put a delicate lace ruana-style, wrap on that kept those delightfully freckled shoulders hidden from him at the moment. Her long red hair was braided and wrapped into a pretty style at the nape of her neck, her dragonfly clip tucked into it.  She was a sight to behold tonight and he drank it in, for every day they'd spent apart.

 

“Why don’t you be  _ more _ obvious?” He heard the familiar tone of one, rather sarcastic, Puerto Rican woman; turning to look back at Penni where she stood, head tilted, hands on hips, a large grin on her face.  Simultaneously, he saw Ennis’ face go pale as his date spoke to his employer in a way he would never attempt. It was amusing for Bruce, as Penni knew her beau was employed by him and Aidan knew she was close friends with his employer’s significant other, which made the situation confusing as to just how familiar one should be around Bruce.  As an upstanding British military man, Dr. Ennis would always err on the side of staying the hell quiet, while Penni tended to err on the side of blunt. They were an odd couple, but it seemed to work for them, or at least it had, until Aidan wondered if he was going to remain employed. Bruce gave a reserved smiled to Penni, who had long ago shown him she might not know about the Batman, but she probably wouldn’t be all that terrified by it if she did.

 

“Was I?” he asked and Penni shook her head in a pitying way.

 

“Is the Pope, Catholic?” she responded, Bruce knowing she was right.  He had been staring a little too long, but he could only hope Penni could understand that.  She was aware how long Bruce had been gone, Myrna having stayed with her for that time.  He shrugged, unapologetic that he had been enjoying the view provided by the woman he was involved with.  She was worth staring at and at the moment, he didn’t really care if anyone noticed. After the failure of this latest attempt, he was ready to have someone on his side for a change. 

 

“I’ll do my best to tone down my obviousness.” He said, Penni properly unconvinced, showing him with a conspiratorial smile to Ennis that she wasn’t.  Bruce moved closer to Penni, taking her gently by the elbow, a small smile to the doctor as he offered apologies.

 

“Dr. Ennis, do you mind if I steal Penni away from you for a moment?  I’ll bring her right back.” He asked, Dr. Ennis stepping back, accepting he would be left on his own now.  Penni followed Bruce as they walked to the edges of the throng of people for more privacy. Penni looked at him, wondering what the matter was as he didn’t usually seek her out for conversation; as Myrna’s self-appointed defender, Penni was generally fine with this, as she could maintain perspective for whenever Bruce was an idiot and Myrna needed her support.

 

“I was wondering…” Bruce started as he looked back across the mass of event-goers to see Myrna still discussing something with her fellow board members, “If Myrna said anything was wrong when she came to stay at the house with you.” He asked, Penni’s brows lifting with concern as she heard the unexpected question from him.

 

“Wrong-- Like between you two or…” She clarified, unsure if she was now privy to trouble in paradise and should be worried.  Bruce shook his head as he tried to word it in a way that wouldn’t throw Penni into a whirlwind panic that her friend might be in danger.

 

“I just meant, if she had told you there was something bothering her while I was away, something that made her feel uncomfortable staying at the glasshouse?” He asked, Penni shaking her head no as she thought back on the last few weeks.  

 

“I don’t think so-- she just said she didn’t feel like living in the aquarium without the other goldfish.” She said, Bruce letting out an amused snort; the aquarium, sounded exactly Myrna, who didn’t particularly care for the open concept or transparentness of the home they shared.  She rarely commented on it as even though they were living together now, in all but announcement, she still considered it Bruce’s and knew he liked it as it was.

 

“So she was fine while she was with you?” He asked and Penni nodded, head slowing as she hesitated on a memory that was ignited from Bruce’s line of questioning.

 

“Well, there was a night she seemed a little out of sorts.” She said, Bruce meeting her eye, the eye contact encouraging Penni to continue as it came back to her.

 

“I think it was after she’d gotten off the phone with you whenever you called her last… She had been outside talking to you, but when she came back in she was quiet, just said you were going to be away longer than expected so she’d be sticking around.” Penni continued, “I thought she was upset you were going to be delayed; she said she had expected it so it wasn’t that but she didn’t say much more.  We were watching a movie and every time I looked at her, she was messing with her ring.”

 

“Her ring?” Bruce questioned and Penni nodded again.

 

“Yeah, her grandmother’s ring.  Kept looking at it and twisting it around her finger like it was too tight or something.  She was back to herself the next day so maybe she was just feeling off.” Penni said with a shrug.  The serious look on Bruce’s face made her reconsider her blase attitude toward her story.

 

“You have that look on your face.” She said, Bruce shaking his head like he didn’t know what she was talking about.”

 

“What look?”

 

“The concerning one… Should I be worried?  Is Myrna ok?” Penni asked, Bruce immediately patting her shoulder to reassure her, even though he wasn’t sure if he was lying to her or not.

 

“No, she’s fine, I should have realized she didn’t want to stay at the glasshouse.  I know she prefers spending time with you than being on her own. I just wanted to check with you.” He said, Penni still unsure if she should believe him or accept that Myrna didn’t have anything going on that she wasn’t aware of.  After a moment of trying to read his mind, she let it go and Bruce returned her to her date, who was pensively waiting to find out if his dark haired beauty had said anything else he would consider untoward toward his employer. The two wandered off in search of fresh drinks and Bruce found himself surrounded by a group of strangers who recognized him and immediately went into detail about their programs and how bright partnerships could be made this evening.  He gave vague responses to keep anyone from believing there was a promise to be had of such partnerships and was relieved to find Myrna making her way back to him from her earlier conversation. Practically having to peel people off of him, she directed his new friends to others in the room that were in a more obviously giving mood, allowing Bruce the chance to breathe unharassed. 

 

“Bet you’re  _ so _ glad you decided to come to this get together.” She said with a smile, Bruce giving a nonchalant tip of his head. 

 

“I’ve gone to worse parties.” He said as he reached up and brushed his hand across her face tenderly.  He had missed her, more than he believed he was capable of admitting. The touch of her skin against his and the smile she never had in short supply for him had been absent for long enough in the last few weeks. “Besides,” He continued, “I’ve heard the hostess is easy on eyes.” He said, Myrna’s eyes widening as she looked around the room, searching. 

 

“Oh my gosh, really?  I should check her out.” She said jokingly, looking back at him, eyes content as they landed on him again; he shrugged as he played into her humor. 

 

“I’ll let you know when I see her.” He said, Myrna laughing as she smacked his shoulder lightly. 

 

“You should get her number too.” She said, knowing he was playing along— for a change.  “Though, knowing you, you probably already have it.” She added, Bruce nodding in agreement. 

 

“You’re right— I do…” He leaned in closer to her to keep outside ears struggling to hear.  “I’d love to know if she’s free tonight.” He said, Myrna crossing her arms and leaning back to eye him.

 

“I don’t know, she might be busy.” She responded, though the way he was looking at her, she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to pretend like she wasn’t interested. He was obviously confident she wouldn’t be and kept up the charm. 

 

“Well, if she can find the time, I’d really like to show her my appreciation.” He said in a tone that sent a delightful shiver down Myrna’s back.  Oh, had she missed him. She smiled at him, fighting the red she knew was crawling up her face. Even after a year together, Bruce still had the ability to make her blush like a lovesick teenager.

 

“I’ll see what I can do.” She said, Bruce nodding gratefully, they were interrupted once again by people wanting their attention and the evening continued on, Bruce and Myrna stealing looks at one another throughout the night as the promise of the two of them being reunited without further interruption drew closer.  When the last guest finally left, Myrna shaking everyone’s hand and thanking them for coming, she and Penni agreeing they’d come back later in the weekend to clean up, Bruce and Myrna were finally alone. They walked out to the parking lot, waving as Penni and Dr. Ennis set off into the evening darkness as they walked together.  Bruce walked Myrna to her car, an air of disappointment they would have to go separately surrounding them, as they stopped beside the vehicle. She turned to face him, allowing herself to show just how happy she was to see him. Hands slid up his chest as she leaned forward and kissed him, Bruce surprised but returning the favor in kind as his own hands wrapped around her waist.  Maybe it was because there was always the possibility he could be mortally wounded during one of his lengthy escapades. As he’d been remote areas looking for Arthur Curry, she’d spent most of the month wondering about his well-being but not knowing for certain he was well. She’d only been able to assume Alfred would contact her if something had gone wrong, but then again, she’d spent much of that month worrying about the old man as well.  

 

Obviously, now that he was here, the familiar curve of his lips against hers, Myrna was assured he was fine.  The sprawl of his fingers across her back as he held her waist was also a well received sign of his return and Myrna felt that longing for him that had accrued during their month long separation was beating at its cage doors to be set free.  She pulled back from him, almost apologetically, both for her sudden attack with intimacy and that she was ending it. Mostly because they were still on the premises of her school and she’d much rather be with him in the privacy of home. She smiled up at him, eyes bright despite the dusky lighting.

 

“I missed you.” She said simply, Bruce smiling back at her, the feeling very mutual.

 

“I missed you too.” He said as he brushed some of her auburn hair that had escaped back from her face.  A gesture he had done a thousand times before, but never seemed to tire of. He wondered if that would ever change as time marched on.  He knew how he felt for Myrna; it was deep and it was very real, but he also knew himself. Twenty years of keeping himself at a distance would take time to keep from repeating.  She was worth the effort of battling himself whenever the topic arose in him; the world could end, villains could figure out what she was to him and he had to protect her, no matter the cost to himself.  Even if that meant letting her go to keep her safe. Or even now, as he worked to build this team, there was always the chance the evil they would be fighting would call for a sacrifice he would be more than willing to make it if it saved the world and the few people he cared to protect.  She knew these things about him and still she stayed and it made him consider that perhaps those twenty years had actually just been a long wait for her. That wasn’t usual for him to entertain, which only added to the list of things he’d never believed in the last two decades he ever would.

 

“It gets harder to leave, every time.” He added, despite himself as Myrna absently ran her fingers along his jaw.

 

“But when you come back, makes it all worth the wait.” She answered, she was just happy he was home.  It was hard, for both of them, to be apart when they were called upon to be, but as Bruce said frequently, that was the job.  They both knew the risks and the strains of being together, but Myrna tended to have a more optimistic outlook on things than Bruce, which was unsurprising to anyone who really knew them.  Bruce tipped her face up to him, inches apart as he spoke.

 

“You’re right.  Though I don’t think I want to wait anymore tonight.” He said, the anticipation of holding her, touching her, hearing her as he showed her just how much he had missed her was excruciating; closing the tiny gap between them as he kissed her again.  Myrna dug her fingers into his jacket lapels, knowing exactly what he meant.

 

“I don’t either.” 

 

“Do we have to take two cars?” He asked, Myrna laughing as she let him go and turned to unlock her car and slid into it, tucking her dress in to keep from shutting it in the door.

 

“For the safety of the citizens of Gotham, it’s probably for the best.” 

 

More waiting.  Just what Bruce wanted.

 

* * *

 

  
  


The drive back to the glasshouse at been unbearably long; a man of great patience and will, it seemed Bruce had met his match in Myrna making him seem less so with every moment this evening.  Thankfully, by the time he had arrived, Myrna wasn’t far behind and Alfred was nowhere to be seen; the older man knowing full well the importance of an uninterrupted reunion between lovers. He had taken a moment to pour himself a drink, lit a fire and settle himself as he waited for Myrna to arrive home.  He realized that although he wasn’t here now, Alfred had left the file he had started on Myrna’s stalker on the kitchen counter for him and it cooled his passions for a moment as he flipped through it. As he the photographs of the blond man, Bruce felt that familiar bubble of anger that someone who very likely had ill intent had gotten closer to Myrna than he had ever intended.  They still hadn’t been able to identify him so Bruce could put a name with the face of the man he would pulverize as soon as he had the opportunity, which aggravated him further. All the technology in the world at their fingertips and yet they still didn’t know who he was. 

 

The light from Myrna’s headlights drew his attention from the file, flipping the cover closed.  They would have to talk about this at some point, she hadn’t told him about him being on the property in the first place and if he went with his gut feeling, he knew there were other things she wasn’t telling him.  That bothered him more. He looked up as the door opened and Myrna stepped through, hanging up her things and tossing her keys by the door before she walked fully into the room. He slid the file under his drink and walked towards her as she reached up, pulling at the pins currently holding her hair up at the back of her neck.

 

“Let me.” He said, closing the space between them in a few short strides.  If he was being honest, on the rare occasion Myrna wore her hair up, he enjoyed helping her take it down.  For a variety of reasons. She let her hands drop in front of her, fingers entwining as he pulled the pins out carefully, loosening the braids she had coiled at the back of her neck.  He gently untwined the braids until the long waves of her red hair spread across his fingers. He pushed his fingertips through the strands softly, careful not to hurt her as he loosened the snarls leftover.  Myrna leaned back against him as he did, she enjoyed it as much as Bruce when he did this. It was not in Bruce’s nature to state there were things beyond the obvious that he wanted much less liked, especially things that didn’t correspond to a crisis.  As a CEO it was natural he expected his employees to do their work and efficiently; as Batman it was expected he wanted to be at his peak in strength and intelligence, his gizmos as Myrna often called them being efficient at doing what he needed them to. Basically, efficiency was what Bruce expected and the little things beyond that were trivial.  But that being said, Myrna was not oblivious to the fact there was at least one physical attribute of hers he  _ was  _ enamored with and it was her hair.  She couldn’t explain it and didn’t want to, as it made a connection for them and the feeling of his fingers running through it was one she would never turn down.  

 

As he combed through her hair, he pushed it to one side to give him access to the soft, warm skin there.  He kissed his way down the column of her neck until he reached the junction of her shoulder. He pushed her wrap off just enough to reveal the bare shoulder and the spray of freckles there.

 

“I knew these were hiding from me.” He said softly against her skin as he pressed a kiss against each one.  Myrna’s flesh sparked at the feeling, goose-flesh following the thrill of it down her arms. She lifted a hand, letting it come to rest against his head as it leaned over her shoulder, the lace wrap being loosened enough it dropped to the floor between them.  She reveled in his kisses for a moment longer before turning to face him, taking his hand as she backed toward the bedroom that had remained empty without them for the last month.

 

“I have a few more of those for you to find.” She told him, Bruce loosening the tie at his neck with his free hand as they made there way there.  And find them he did, in the glow of the fire he marked her body with a thousand brands in the form of kisses. A month apart encouraged more fervent action, a need in them for one another that didn’t allow for slow exploration.  Each clinging to one another as their coupling was passionate and intense; Bruce basking in the sounds Myrna made as she had grown comfortable in letting him hear her pleasure, finding he wasn’t much more capable of keeping his own opinions to himself as he moved within her, her nails digging into his back as she guided him more deeply to her center.  She had become less shy in telling him what she wanted than when they had first been together, which was all the more exciting for him as she took what she needed from him. There had been a learning curve for both of them within the last year, discovering that they were both willing to deny themselves in this area because they were so focused on each other’s needs.  Which had effectively left them missing something. That refreshing honesty had been born of that discovery and now neither of them was left wanting for anything when they made love. Tonight was no exception and the two found themselves spent, the night enveloping them as Myrna tucked herself against him in her usual place, Bruce pulling her tightly against him as they came down from their mutual high.  He was content in this moment, however short-lived it might be given the state of the future he expected to come. Myrna was quiet just long enough that Bruce thought she had fallen asleep until he felt her fingers tracing against his chest and she finally spoke up.

 

“So was this trip a success for you?” she asked, Bruce, who had been stroking the bare skin of her back and had not expected her to ask something regarding his attempts to find the Aquaman took a second to collect his thoughts.

 

“Not in so many words.” He responded, feeling Myrna’s ribs bounce against his hand as she translated what he meant and laughed.

 

“So he said no.”

 

“He said no.” He responded.  Thankfully he was satisfied enough from their earlier activities, he found the annoyance he usually felt from that particular failure was not as strong.  Myrna was quiet again, not wanting to upset him as she knew just from the length of his absence alone that he had spent a significant amount of time looking for someone and it had not turned out to be worth it.

 

“Does he not believe something is coming?” she asked, Bruce’s hand meandering to her shoulder as he considered her question.  In the brief time he had spent with Arthur Curry, he couldn’t say for certain he knew what kind of man he was. He had an idea, but a month of searching only to have less than an hour of audience time with him that had been unsuccessful, left a bitter taste in Bruce’s mouth.

 

“I’m not sure he cares.” He said, Myrna lifting herself onto an elbow to peer at Bruce where he lay, one arm tucked under his dark head.  

 

“That can’t be true.”

 

“You’d be surprised… I can’t say for certain, but he doesn’t seem to be a man with much of a cause that isn’t his own.” He answered, Myrna looking away from him for a moment, through the glass facing the lake.  The thing about Myrna wasn't naivety, but a belief there was always a reason to trust in someone until there wasn’t. It was a gift Bruce didn’t possess in spades like she did, he wouldn’t give up on a task until every avenue had been exhausted, but people-- people had proven many times over to him that not all of them were worth saving.  She looked back at him after a moment, a coy smile crossing her face.

 

“Well… I suppose  _ I _ could always be on this team of yours.” She said, Bruce smiling, knowing she wasn’t being serious; she was happy to leave the crime-fighting to him, she would do her part to keep criminals from being born by teaching a better way to live to the youngest minds in Gotham, but to spend her evenings chasing bad guys, that wasn't really her forte.  He reached up to cup her face from where he lay.

 

“I couldn’t think of a better teammate.” He said as he pulled her head down to kiss her.

 

“I have a few ideas for a suit.” She said with a laugh as she captured his lips with hers.  He laughed in his usual gruff way as she pulled back from him once more.

 

“I might have a few of my own ideas.” He said, making Myrna chuckle.

 

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” She said as she straightened and lifted herself up to straddle him again, “But maybe I should audition first.” She said, Bruce gripping her hips with his hands, finding he was liking this welcome home.

 

“I’ve got the time now, if you’d like to show me what you’ve got.”


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce woke the next morning, later than usual but not annoyed to have done so, as between the month long search for Arthur Curry and finally reuniting with Myrna had left him well spent.  He woke to the scents of something delicious and felt his stomach growl against his wishes. He hoped it was Myrna cooking and that it was French toast. Alfred was not a terrible cook by any means, but the old man and he had discovered fairly quickly once she had joined them at the glasshouse,  that Myrna had a skill set neither of them had and it was breakfast foods. Her dinner recipes were equally delicious, but she managed to create a morning meal that was irresistible every time. French toast being one of Bruce’s favorites and he wasn’t going argue if part of his homecoming included such a treat. Sliding out of bed and running a hand through his hair, wandering into the kitchen and finding his wish had been granted as Myrna flipped a finished piece of toast onto a plate already stacked with several pieces. There was a bowl of fresh raspberries and powdered sugar ready to be sprinkled on once the attendee of this dining experience had poured the appropriate amount of syrup on their toast.  She saw him meander into the kitchen and smiled brightly. 

 

“Morning, love.” She said as she dipped another slice into her special recipe and readied it for toasting. Walking up behind her, Bruce slid his hands around her waist and let his face nuzzle into her hair, the familiar scent of roses and murumuru butter filling his nose; God only knew what murumuru butter was, but he’d learned living with a woman full time meant finding pretty smelling things with unidentifiable ingredients were the norm.

 

“Good morning… I was hoping you were making breakfast.” He said as he popped a raspberry into his mouth. She shook her head but smiled regardless; Bruce was not good with compliments and as someone who spent life living on coffee rather than food, she was happy to feed him and accept that as a one. 

 

“If you want to get started, there’s plenty ready.” She said pushing an empty plate across the counter beside them.  Bruce kissed the top of her head as he picked the plate up. 

 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He said, dropping some of the warm French toast on his plate and loading it with the trimmings she had laid out for him. He poured himself a glass of orange juice, offering some to Myrna as she finished fixing her own plate. She took it gratefully as he walked to the table. He had barely sat down when Myrna joined him and dropped something beside him. He went still as he realized it was the file containing the photographs of the man that had been watching her. 

 

“So we should probably talk about this.” She said he looked up at Myrna, expecting her to be irritated or ready to verbally spar with him for checking in on her when she had said she was fine, but she wasn’t.  He was surprised into silence as he realized this, Myrna flipping it open to the first still from the security footage, as she slid into the seat across from him.

 

“I agree.” He answered, as she took a bite of her French toast, as though they weren’t going to be discussing either a strange man who had fixated on Myrna or the fact Bruce knew about it before she had said anything.  She looked up from her breakfast expectantly, as though waiting for Bruce to start, which frankly, left him baffled.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that.” She finally said after a few moments of silence and Bruce staring at her as though she’d lost her mind.  She knew he was probably concerned she hadn’t said anything about this before his return, but she also wasn’t surprised he knew anyway. This was how it seemed to work between them and although it sometimes rubbed her the wrong way, she had learned to become more accepting of the fact Bruce had lived most of his adult life knowing things before people told him.  Bruce took a drink of his juice before he responded. Myrna was fiercely independent and he was equally as fiercely protective and as they had discovered many times before, that made them butt heads.

 

“Like what?” He asked as he set his glass down, Myrna tilting her face and giving him a pointed look.

 

“Like I’ve grown a second head.” 

 

“No, no second head.”

 

“Then what?” She asked.

 

“I was waiting for the part where you tell me you don’t like me checking in on you like this.” He said gesturing toward the pile of photos.  Myrna dropped her fork on her plate and spread the pile of stills apart until she reached one in particular. Bruce recognized it as the night from a year ago; the same moment that he had realized how long this stranger had been watching her.

 

“Obviously it’s more than what I thought.” She said, indicating she recognized the moment too, the combination of the other instances showing her this was the case.  As much as she had hoped it was nothing and she had been overreacting, it was clear the stranger who had shown up uninvited to the estate was indeed something. She stared down at the photos showing the number of times she and Bruce’s privacy had been violated, that this man, who had spoken to her as though they knew one another was watching them, watching her and had been for almost the entirety of their relationship.  It was enough for her to want answers and if anyone could get them, it would be Bruce.

 

“Do you know him?” Bruce asked, Myrna shaking her head no as she studied the man’s face in the photographs.

 

“I have no idea who he is-- If we’ve ever met I don’t remember.”

 

“He spoke to you the day he approached you-- Did he say anything?”

 

“I had lost my necklace chasing after Daisey-- He must have been watching me when it happened.  He brought it back to me…” She trailed off, Bruce reached across the table, taking her hand in his.

 

“What?” he asked as Myrna’s mind’s eye turned back to the day that happened weeks ago.

 

“He was Scottish… Or at least I’m fairly certain he was-- He said something that wasn’t in English.  Maybe Gaelic.”

  
“Any idea what he was saying?” Bruce asked, knowing Myrna didn’t speak Gaelic, but it was worth a shot asking if the man had said anything else; translated for her perhaps.  Myrna shook her head again.

 

“No, but the way he said it… He was speaking to me like he knew me.” She said, Bruce feeling the hairs on the back of his neck raise in response.  Since she had already said she didn’t know him and there was no clear evidence as of yet to explain the stranger’s presence on the estate or anywhere near Myrna that would support him behaving in such a way, Bruce’s need to figure out his reasons and now. 

 

“Penni said, the night we spoke on the phone before I made my last stop, that you came in after the conversation and seemed agitated… Did you see him again?” He asked her, Myrna shaking her head as she remembered what the agitation was from.  These unexplainable things happening around her, seeing where Daisey was when they were nowhere near each other, hearing voices on the wind, the fact the wind seemed to carry those voices on purpose. It was almost worse than having a stalker, because at least he had physical form and made sense.

 

“No,” Myrna finally said, avoiding looking at her other hand where her grandmother’s ring sat silently now, “I thought I had heard something a few times and it spooked me.  But I didn’t seem him.” It pained Bruce to hear Myrna, who was typically calm under pressure had felt unsafe in places she should have always been. It made him want to drop everything and find this cretin, but it was simply the worst possible moment to have this man come out of the woodwork.  The defensive indignation it stirred coursed through him and out of his mouth as the biggest question he had had since he had discovered this was happening made its entrance.

“Why didn’t you tell me all of this before?” He asked her, Myrna looking up from their entwined fingers, the look in his eyes showing her his worry, the exact thing she hadn’t wanted to see.

 

“Bruce, you were gone for a reason-- This team you’re trying to build is important--”

 

“More important than your safety?” He dared ask, though as much as it irked him to admit, they both knew the answer.  Myrna smiled at him, though it didn’t reach her eyes for a change, nodding.

 

“Actually, yes.  If everything you’ve told me you think is coming, then yes, it is more important.”  She responded, squeezing his hand reassuringly that she was willing to be put last in this situation.  Bruce was silent for a second, feeling his chest tighten as he picked up on what she was saying. That shouldn’t be how it was between them, she shouldn’t have to live knowing there was always something that would take priority over her as he continued on protecting Gotham and now the world.  The familiar pang that he’d allowed himself the luxury of starting a life with her when he had every intention of continuing as Batman struck him once more.

 

“Were you planning on telling me at all?” he asked, the question coming out more abruptly than he’d intended, Myrna’s eyes changing as she pulled her hand back from his at the tone he was using with her.

 

“I don’t know Bruce, I guess I was just so caught up with finally seeing you, I didn’t want to drop something that happened weeks ago on you the second you walked in the door.”  She said, leaning back in her chair, Bruce seeing she was putting distance between them, something she tended to do when he was upsetting her. Despite recognizing this, he found himself not backing down.

 

“A strange man shows up unannounced, speaking a foreign language like you’re the best of friends and that doesn’t seem like something you should mention?”

 

“Is that what I said?”

 

“Basically.”  He said, Myrna’s brows rising in surprise at his blunt response.  She picked the napkin that had been resting on her lap up and dropped it on the table as she slid her chair back and stood.

 

“Let’s clear a few things up before you say something  _ really  _ patronizing, even though it _is_ a day ending in y...” She said coolly, “I know that forming this team is important, I’ve known it the moment you told me what you were doing.  If the world is at risk of something coming because Superman is gone, then I have no business asking you to put it on hold because of one man.” She turned from the table, hesitating before she turned to look at him again, eyes snapping.

 

“And if I recall correctly, there wasn’t much discussion last night and you _certainly_ weren’t complaining.” She added, before she walked away.  This was not how she’d hoped the conversation would go, she had assumed he would be unhappy with her for not saying something sooner, but she hadn’t thought it would turn into an argument.  She pushed the door leading out of the house and to the lake, appetite and relief at Bruce being home evaporating all at once. She watched the water for a moment before she heard the door open behind her and felt Bruce’s hands on her shoulders.  The anger she had been feeling dissipated and she leaned back against him, eyes still trained on the ripples across the water’s surface.

 

“I’m sorry.” She heard him say quietly, the rumble of his voice reverberating through her back as she rested against him, Bruce happily feeling the weight of her as she did.  Myrna knew Bruce rarely apologized for anything, wrong or not. Though he was used to being right more often than he was being wrong, which likely added to his lack of practice in that area.  She let her head fall back against his shoulder as she thought about her response.

 

“I don’t want this to turn into an argument everytime it comes up, Bruce.” She finally answered, Bruce’s arms wrapping around her.  

 

“I know.”

 

“I wasn’t hiding anything from you.” She added, in case he needed the reassurance that she wasn’t keeping secrets from him.

 

“I know.” He said again, Myrna’s eyes narrowing as she turned within his grasp to look at him face to face.

 

“Got anything other than ‘I know’?” He gave her one of his infamous non-smiles and shrugged as his hands slid down to her waist.

 

“Maybe.” He said, Myrna rolling her eyes at him; he thought  _ she _ was the smart-ass.  Taking one hand from her waist he lifted her chin so they were eye to eye.

 

“Myrna, in  the last year, I have been given something I have spent most of my adult life avoiding…  I never even entertained the idea of caring for another person so much I couldn’t bear the thought of losing them.  For any reason.” He said, Myrna understanding full well that working through twenty years of experiences for Bruce was always going to leave him struggling.  He had already faced losses she couldn’t even imagine, brutal losses, early on in life and she suspected, no matter his physical and mental strength, there would always be a part of him that was terrified of reliving them in any fashion.

 

“I understand, Bruce.  It’s how I feel everytime you put on that suit.” She answered, Bruce feeling the familiar twinge of guilt, that he put her through this almost daily, “It’s why I didn’t tell you about what happened before-- because I know this team coming together is necessary...”

 

“ _ You _ being safe is necessary to me.” He interrupted, but Myrna shook her head at him for cutting her off.

 

“Not just to protect the world, Bruce--  _ I _ need it to work because if it doesn’t I know you’ll try to do it alone and if that happens I will most certainly lose  _ you _ . And if you can’t bear losing me, then you should understand I would feel the same way.” She finished, the two of them silent for a moment, it was strange being at an impasse because of shared sentiments.  Myrna had always been supportive of his continuing on as the Batman, she knew it was a part of him he would have difficulty walking away from; she had compromised on many things and allowed herself to be secondary when she should have been a priority and she hadn’t complained.  Meanwhile, he overreacted because he wasn’t always present to keep her safe from the dangers of the world he was frequently gone to stop for everyone else. He brought his forehead to rest against hers. He let out a small chuckle as he thought about this predicament, Myrna not sure what would possess him to laugh at a time like this.

 

“What?” she asked.

 

“What a feeling this is, for two people to care so deeply about one another, they argue about it.” He said, Myrna realizing he was right and smiling.  It was true, they never seemed to disagree on much else, the two generally content in the rest of their lives together, but in this one area, there had always been a tension.  Bruce pulled her closer, arms tightening around her.

 

“Whoever this man is, whatever he wants, I won’t let him hurt you.” He said, Myrna nodding against his forehead, pulling back to look at him a pensive look on her face.  

 

“The world is full of terrible people, Bruce and it seems there’s always more waiting to join in.  That’s not a promise anyone can guarantee, not even you-- I don’t want you living with that kind of guilt if something happens to me.”

 

“I’ll take my chances.” He said, Myrna let her head fall back, it was thrilling and exasperating to know Bruce was so intent on safeguarding her.  

 

“Do you even have a name on him?” She said, Bruce’s eyes narrowing, making Myrna’s widen in surprise as she determined from the look on his face that he did not.  To say she was shocked was an understatement; she would have assumed he’d not only a name, but all of his personal information, down to if he preferred boxers or briefs by now.  Clearing his throat as he pushed down the overly vexing truth that he did not even have a name before answering.

 

“Alfred’s working on it.” He responded, Myrna letting out a laugh.

 

“Oh he is, is he?”

 

“What?  Alfred’s more than capable.”

 

“I know.” She said in perfect echo of his earlier sentiments, Bruce giving her a roguish look as she continued to laugh.

 

“Why do I feel like I’m being mocked?” She shook her head in disagreement, but he didn’t seem to buy it. 

 

“I would never.” Now it was Bruce’s turn to roll his eyes as he tightened his arms around her and lifted her, her feet a few inches off the ground, Myrna’s arms wrapping around his neck as she laughed.

 

“For some reason, I’m having difficulty believing you.” He said as Myrna took the opportunity to silence him with a kiss, one he was more than happy to comply with.  It was in these moments it was easier for Bruce to be at peace with his decisions, he wanted to deserve Myrna, something he felt more often than not he failed at. He was a man, who got what he wanted because of his position but rarely what he needed because of his duty; as though wanting to love a woman and have her love in return was beyond his reach, at least until now.  They both heard the door open behind them, Myrna peeking over Bruce’s shoulder before he let her go and discovering Alfred had arrived. The older man had stopped in the doorway as he’d realized he’d walked in on what looked like a more intimate moment.

 

“Ah, well, pardon me for interrupting the passionate necking.” He said in his usual British way, Myrna giving him a bright smile as she walked around Bruce toward him.  This was the first she was seeing of the curmudgeonly man since he and Bruce had left on their mission and she was happy to see him.

 

“No worries, Alfred-- we were just finishing the passionate necking--” she said as she elbowed him playfully, “For now.” She said, the older man rolling his eyes heavenward behind his tortoise shell glasses.

 

“I do hope you’ll both do me the courtesy of a warning next time.  Perhaps a do not disturb sign?” He said, Bruce’s eyes closing in response, wishing this conversation was over before it had begun, Myrna laughing as she passed by Alfred.

  
“We’ll have to look into it.” She said before she looked down at her watch and realized the time.

 

“Oh my giddy aunt, I completely lost track of the time...” She said, “I told Penni I would meet her at the school at 9:30 to get the gym cleaned up.” She said, Alfred and Bruce following her into the house.

 

“It’s to be expected Miss Myrna.  I blame Master Wayne’s… _Charms_... Entirely” He said with a droll tone, Myrna shaking her head, how she had missed them both.  Before she made a mad dash for the door, she leaned in and pecked him on the cheek, smile never leaving her face.

 

“Oh Alfred, it’s been dull without you.” She said, winking at Bruce before turning toward the door, grabbing her keys and purse as she scurried to her car.  Bruce watched as she drove away and then turned his attentions toward his graying mentor, Alfred matching his gaze.

 

“Who exactly do you work for, again?” Bruce asked, Alfred letting out a snort as he walked toward the counter where the extra portions of Myrna’s breakfast sat waiting to be claimed.

 

“I work for whomever can make French toast as glorious as this,” he said as he filled a clean plate with the remaining pieces before looking back at Bruce, “and I’m sorry to say Master Wayne, that isn’t you.” He said as he walked over to the table Bruce and Myrna had been sitting at shortly before, moving Myrna’s still semi-full plate aside to make room.

 

“I didn’t realize your loyalties were so easily bought, Alfred.” Bruce said as he joined the older man at the table, Alfred tucking in and barely containing his pleasure at the taste of it; even not piping hot it was delicious.

 

“I am a slave to my passions sir; I shall not deny them their breakfast foods.” He responded after his first bite. It wasn’t long before he spotted the open file with the photographs he had compiled for Bruce.  As he shuffled them together in a more organized fashion and tucked them back in the folder, he eyed Bruce from where he sat.

 

“I take it the two of you discussed Miss Myrna’s mystery visitor.” He said as he continued working on the plate in front of him.  Bruce nodded as he pulled the folder back to him, opening it to stare at the face of the man in question. He wanted nothing more than to figure out who he was, what he wanted and if he needed a lesson in leaving that which Bruce loved, alone.

 

“We did.” He said, Alfred taking the opportunity to look Bruce over for some sign of how it went.

 

“You made her angry, I take it.” He said, Bruce matching Alfred’s look, how the old man always knew was one of those things Bruce would never understand.  

 

“We had a minor disagreement.” 

 

“Shall I translate that as, you launched yourself head first into Miss Myrna’s wrath, by interrogating her reasoning for not saying something about this fellow sooner?” Alfred asked, Bruce letting out a sharp breath.

 

“Yes.”

 

“You’re lucky she left survivors.” He said, Bruce nodding.

 

“I understand why she chose to keep quiet…  I don’t want her to believe it’s because she doesn’t matter.” 

 

“Master Wayne, I have had the good fortune to observe the bond between you and Miss Myrna grow for the last year--” Alfred said with his usual knowing tone, but not an ounce of his typical sarcasm,  “And I say this with good authority, that of all the young ladies you have chosen to associate with, she is the first who has truly grasped what it is you’re doing. Her decision to remain silent until there was an appropriate time to tell you was not done out of fear she doesn’t matter, it was done out of knowing she’s not the  _ only one _ that matters.” He said this with a pride Bruce had not heard from him in many years.  He knew Alfred cared for Myrna deeply, as he had Bruce throughout the years and his parents before him, but the number of people he had felt proud to know was limited.  To know Myrna was among those he considered worthy of that care, was enough for Bruce to know what he said about her was true.

 

“I know, Alfred.” 

 

“Then I would suggest you respect her ability to make the call for herself, I don’t believe for a moment you would  _ choose  _ a woman who would do otherwise.” Alfred reminded Bruce.  Bruce knew he was right, other liaisons had been short lived because they were with the vapid and uncommitted; there had been no time to learn more about them because there was no interest in doing so, no expectation of seeing more of them than he’d been able to in one or two evenings.  Myrna, however, had proven to be the opposite of that in so many ways that it confirmed for Bruce, no matter how often he let that tinge of guilt and questioning nag at him that he had indeed chosen her.

 

“You’re right, of course…” Bruce said, letting his voice trail off as he studied the photos again, “But she also reminds me this is a two way street.  I have the means to find this person and make him talk before we find out for sure he’s a threat and I intend to.” He stated this with firm expectation, he could and would respect Myrna’s thoughts on this, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t protect her anyway he could.

 

“Of course, sir.  I think perhaps we should start with the estate’s security.  Obviously he was able to pass through the systems “fail-safes” without setting them off, I’m curious as to how he did so.” Alfred said, Bruce nodding as he closed the file on the stranger’s countenance.

 

“I agree.  Feel like taking a walk, Alfred?” He asked, the older man taking one last bite of his toast before dabbing at his face with his napkin and standing.

 

“I’ll need one after this breakfast.” He answered, Bruce nodded as he turned his face to look out across the estate.  He had taken great pains to protect this place, long before he had met Myrna; he suspected it wasn’t infallible. Nothing was, but the blond haired man in the photos didn’t seem the type to be able to thwart it.  As he had, Bruce certainly wanted to know how.

 

* * *

 

Myrna flew into the school in a rush and burst into the gym, scaring Penni nearly half to death as she stood on a ladder pulling down the decorations she, Myrna and a few of the school’s teachers had painstakingly put up only a few days before.

 

“I’m sorry I’m late!” Myrna said, tossing her things on one of the many tables set up across the gym floor.  She walked over to where Penni was still clutching the ladder, eyes narrowed with annoyance.

 

“I’m sorry you enter a room like a herd of cattle.  Oh dios mio.” She muttered as her heart finally began to calm from its scare and she didn’t feel like she was going to fall to her death.  Myrna looked up at her friend apologetically, not having realized until she’d let the door hit the wall with a thud that Penni was in a precarious position.

 

“I’m sorry-- I just didn’t want you to think I had blown off coming in to clean up.” She said, Penni leaning against the top of the ladder, one hand coming to her hip as she ogled her friend from her bird’s eye view.

 

“Girl, you eat, sleep and breathe this place.  At what point, would I, who has known you for almost ten years, think you had blown off coming in?” She said, Myrna shrugging.

 

“I don’t know-- it’s been a morning and I’m frazzled.  Forgive me.” She said, Penni watching her for a second before her eyes widened and a smile crossed her face.

 

“Obviously.” She said and she came down the ladder until she and Myrna were on the same level.  She picked up the few decorations she’d managed to take down and handed some to Myrna, the two of them working on folding up what they were keeping and trashing the rest.  Penni waited a full minute before she finally gave up waiting for Myrna to tell her what she was wondering.

 

“So why are you frazzled?  You and the illustrious Mr. Wayne have a hard time prying your lips apart this morning?” She asked, Myrna fumbling with a piece as she folded one of the hanging decorations in her hands.

 

“Something like that.” She responded, one would have thought she was used to Penni’s forthcoming conversation starters, but there were days even Myrna was caught off guard by them.  Penni laughed as she set one folded piece down and started on another.

 

“Well, I mean, you two haven’t seen each other in a month-- I would have been understanding if you’d said you were indisposed indefinitely this weekend.” She continued.  She wasn’t lying either, after watching her friend spend years on her own and make peace that her life was too busy for a relationship, she was thrilled to see her happy and with a man who seemed to prize that happiness.  She’d spent the last year trying to get a read on Bruce Wayne as he’d courted her best friend and to say she still didn’t always know what she was looking at when she was around him was an understatement. Myrna shared bits and pieces of their life together as they had gone from casually seeing one another to her essentially moving in with him, to his erratic and well-traveled schedule, but Penni sometimes found Myrna catching herself before she said something out loud, choosing her next words carefully after a moment’s hesitation. As Myrna continued to speak well of Bruce and never showed any other worrying signs, it was never enough to make Penni think ill of Bruce; or make her believe her friend was in a bad company.  She could tell when he was around the other ‘elite’ of Gotham, he was there because he had to be for one reason or another and not because he wanted to be, frequently quiet about his generosity and not looking for accolades even when given. He regularly maintained an austere exterior, but when he was around Myrna it was clear in his eyes, at least to Penni, how he felt about her. Myrna finished folding what was in her hands and moved on to the next, shrugging her shoulders.

 

“Actually this morning was more of a disagreement than anything.” She said, Penni looking up from her work in surprise.

 

“Why?” She asked, until the thought sparked the memory of Bruce asking her questions last night, “Is this because of what he asked about last night?” she said, before Myrna could even begin to answer.  Myrna, knowing Bruce had mentioned talking to Penni, but no specifics as to what, threw a free hand up questioningly.

 

“What did he ask?” Myrna said, Penni freezing as she realized, likely too late, that Bruce probably hadn’t meant for her bring it up in conversation.  Too far down the rabbit hole to backtrack, Penni cleared her throat and found herself focusing hard on her work.

 

“Uh… I… He just-- asked if you were acting strangely while he was gone.  Since you came to stay with me and all.” She said, looking up carefully to see if her friend was upset.  She appeared calm, though she wasn’t looking at Penni anymore, her eyes said she was thinking, more than anything.

 

“What did you tell him?” she pressed, Penni setting her items in hand on the table nearest them and walking closer to her friend.  Bruce had told her not to be worried, but it seemed they were both determined to make her so.

 

“I said you were fine-- there was just that one night when he was finally able to call you.  When you came in the house you seemed… Different, I don’t know, distracted maybe?” she said, knowing what she was talking about.  She looked down at her hands, tipping her hand again to look at the ring that had been sitting, laying in wait since that night for Myrna to let her guard down again.  Penni immediately caught on to Myrna’s gaze, pointing her finger at her friend’s hand.

 

“Like that, you were looking at your ring like that the whole evening.” She said, Myrna breaking her look away from her hand and back at her friend, Penni’s brow wrinkling in concern.  “Myr, what’s going on? Are you ok?” she asked, Myrna closing her eyes for a second and taking a breath. She knew Penni was going to be just as upset with her for staying quiet as Bruce was, maybe even more so.  It seemed she wasn’t going to make anyone happy today, but she had been considering and feeling responsibility that she may have put Penni in danger by staying with her. She had assumed her visitor had simply been one incident and not the several they had discovered and if he had found her at Bruce’s estate, no doubt he’d found her at her old address.  She had begun to feel stupid for putting her oldest friend at risk and it made her feel worse than holding back from Bruce, because her friend wasn’t an overprotective billionaire with acres of security systems and a lifetime of training at her disposal. Finally she opened her eyes and sighed, beginning the story she probably should have told Penni sooner.

 

“Something happened the day Bruce left the country, at the estate and it worried me enough that I thought it might be a good idea not to stay there alone.  So I came to visit you-- Now Bruce and I have figured out it’s more than that and it’s possible I have…” She hesitated because she hated this word and it seemed so ridiculous the more she thought about it, “a stalker.” She said, Penni staying silent as she stared at her friend for what felt like a full minute.

 

“You have a stalker?”

 

“Possibly.”

 

“And he what-- he?”

 

“Showed up at the glasshouse.” Myrna answered, Penni’s eyes narrowing again and the usual warmth disappearing as she questioned her friend.

 

“At the glasshouse… So this man showed up in person, where you live.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“LORD GIVE ME STRENGTH… WHY didn’t you tell me this before now?!” Penni exploded and Myrna stayed quiet, knowing her friend being upset with her was well placed.  “You tell me all the time to call you and let you know when I’m home and to be safe and now this happens and you don’t think maybe I’d want to know?” She ranted, Myrna waiting for a safe moment to speak, not sure there would ever be an opportunity now that she had set her off.  The can was open and the worms were escaping. When it went quiet, Penni still staring her down, Myrna raised her hands in truce.

 

“I honestly thought I was overreacting, Penni-- It was one incident and staying with you was just to keep me from overthinking it.  But now I know it was more than that, Bruce--” she started but was interrupted by her still irked friend.

 

“Oh  _ now  _ I know why you two had an argument… You didn’t tell him either, did you?” She asked, Myrna’s silence and her pressing her lips together in response all she needed to know she was right.  Penni threw her hands up, as though waving off demons. “Myr, you have a man who could probably afford to buy you the moon and WOULD if you asked him for it; you can’t tell me he doesn’t have some fancy security set up or something.”

 

“He does… We’re still trying to figure it out.  The reason I’m telling you is BECAUSE there’s more to it than I thought, I want you to be aware and be safe.”

 

“Oh, well that certainly makes it better.”

 

“Penni.”

 

“What?  I am mad, I have the right to be mad--  Myrna, barely a year ago you were beaten within an inch of your life by a thug because he blamed you for being a better teacher to his son than he could manage…  NOW you’re telling me, you’re being stalked by some guy and you didn’t tell me until your boyfriend yelled at you.”

 

“He didn’t… That’s not…” Myrna started, her knees being cut out from under her as two people she loved most in the world seemed to gang up on her for thinking for herself, starting to upset her as well, “I might not have made the right call, but it was mine to make.  I thought it was for the best; Bruce was on a very important trip, you have enough going on in your life without me adding more to it and I didn’t want to make a fuss over nothing. I know now it wasn’t nothing, but that doesn’t change my intentions. So I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I’m telling you now so get over it.” She finally let loose, Penni quieting down, her face softening as she listened to Myrna’s emphatic response.

 

“I get it…” She said, reaching out to touch Myrna’s arm, “But Myr-- Bruce and I love you… I don’t think either of us could ‘get over’ something happening to you because we didn’t know about this.” Myrna gave a small smile to her friend and nodded.

 

“I understand.” She said, Penni smiling back before she lifted her eyebrows high and pointed at Myrna.

 

“But seriously though, when is Bruce going to kick this guy’s ass?” She asked, Myrna so surprised at her friend’s sudden attitude she burst out laughing, the two of them feeding each other’s laughter until neither could breathe.  Penni went sober for a moment as a thought hit her.

 

“Myr… Have you told your parents?” She said, Myrna’s head dropping back, eyes squeezing shut as her previous humor died.

 

“Frick.”

 

* * *

 

 

As the sun meandered across the sky, Bruce and Alfred spent the morning combing the perimeter of the Wayne estate.  Following the lines of the the security system, they looked for any sign of tampering, any evidence of how the stranger had entered the property without causing it to alert them.  For most of the morning, it appeared there was nothing to give Bruce any idea how such an advanced system could have been fooled. Alfred was having similar luck, or lack thereof, as the two checked in every once in awhile to report a continued lack of proof.  Bruce stopped for a moment, his frustration at not having found anything thus far was beginning to unfocus him, surely there had to be some sign of this man, somewhere on the property. Having been exposed to the weird and seemingly supernatural over the course of twenty years, Bruce was not a stranger to the idea there may be something at play that wasn’t easily identifiable to his usual tools.  An idea of what to look for would certainly help this search though and because he had not yet found that, it felt like walking in circles. He had walked his section of perimeter around the glasshouse to where dirt road lead toward the burnt out shell of Wayne Manor; his eyes glancing along the outline of the large, crumbling building, the sight usually forcing some memory of a time when he had lived there and quite happily before the deaths of his parents.  Now, it was just a reminder of his loss, withering away into the dust of time because he couldn’t bear to repair it, much less bulldoze it.

 

Bringing his head back to the task at hand, Bruce found the screen and keypad, hidden amongst the overgrown foliage off the road to the length of sensors that ran across this section of the estate.  A quick check told him the system was functioning as expected and there had been no disruption to it in the last 24 hours. He assumed there would not be; although there was photo evidence Bruce’s presence was not a deterrent to this man, Myrna had only been back to the glasshouse for a short time.  If this person was interested only in her whereabouts, more likely than not, he had followed her to her old address during her time staying with Penni. As Myrna had not been abducted or harmed during that time, Bruce suspected, whatever this man’s reasons were for watching her for such a long time, did not currently require those things.  He supposed if he had to be grateful for anything in this situation, it was this, but it certainly didn’t make him lower his guard and it didn’t anger him any less. Crossing his arms, he looked toward the dirt road leading toward their home and imagined this person, having the audacity to travel it, many times over to breech their privacy for whatever gains it might bring them without any of them knowing.  As he watched, a small wild rabbit made its way out from the tall grasses surrounding the road, hopping along contentedly until it was within a few feet of him. Here there was an invisible opening between the sensors of the system where vehicles and people could pass through but not without detection. As the creature bounded through, Bruce looked back at the screen he stood beside, fully expecting it to register in the system as it was designed to.  Although it was advanced enough to differentiate through various measurements of height, weight and temperature an animal in comparison to a human being or vehicle, it would register the disruption to the sensors regardless and simply classify it as a non-threat if it fell within those parameters. He watched the rabbit pass through this line, looking back at the screen and finding it unchanged. No log was made of the creature, much less a change in the sensors.  Testing this discovery further, Bruce walked the road toward the opening, feet crunching against the dirt and assortment of rocks pressed into it from years of driving over it. Careful to align himself with where he knew the disguised sensors would be, he walked through, several times, making sure he was doing so in a way that was assured to be detected.

 

 After a moment, he returned to the screen finding he had just discovered what was happening as none of his movements had registered, the system continuing to insist nothing was there and it was functioning normally.  He touched his ear to activate the small communicator there before speaking.

 

“Alfred, have you gone back to the house?” he asked.

 

“I was on my way back now, the last set of the sensors checked out as normal.” The older man responded, Bruce nodding as he worked on opening the wiring system underneath the screen.

 

“It may not be that, but I want you to check the coding on the system anyway, see if anything has been tampered with there.”

 

“Very well.” Was the quick response, as Bruce pried open the protective casing around the multitude of wires that brought information to and from the system.  It didn’t take long for Bruce to figure out there had been no tampering with the coding as he checked through them, finding tucked behind the mass of electronics  a small, well polished river stone. Across the flat surface of it, were deeply carved symbols, from the angular lines of them, he suspected they were runes though he didn’t know what they were intended to say just by looking at them.  Reaching in cautiously, Bruce picked the stone up from where it had been hidden, pulling it from the casing altogether. Although there was no attack on his person after touching it, nor any damage to the electronic components of the box, Bruce still felt a buzz at his fingertips as they slid across the face of the stone, as though he had stuck his hand into a weak current of electricity.  Closing the box to see the face of the screen once more, Bruce held the carved stone in one hand while leaning down and grabbing another from the dirt at his feet. Aiming carefully once more, Bruce lobbed the bare stone into the sensor opening.  Looking back down, the screen lit up red, announcing a disturbance entering the sensor's sight, the system assessing it as an inanimate threat.  He walked back to the opening, carved stone in hand, passing through the sensor line once more, before returning to the open box.  Although he had hoped to be surprised, he was not when he looked down at the screen, the usual blue for all clear still present and the only log that something had passed through at all, was the rock Bruce had thrown through it.  He looked down studying the carved piece of stone; clearly there was a supernatural element to the thing nestled in his hand and it was powerful enough to overwhelm technology. This knowledge only increased his unease; this was not the first time his gadgets had been overpowered by something seemingly unexplained, not even the first time the unexplained had been a threat toward him or someone he held in high regard, but it  _ was  _ the first time that threat was to someone who had become so much more than he’d ever expected.

 

Shoving the stone into his pocket, locking up and resetting the system, Bruce stalked back to the glasshouse.  Myrna wasn’t home yet, but having found something that could make his technology useless made his hackles raise and  want her where he could see her. He checked his phone for messages, finding none as he pressed Myrna’s contact, the phone beginning to ring almost immediately.  He was impatient as it continued to ring, though it was usual for Myrna to not always be able to answer him immediately. None of those times had bothered him because there wasn’t some blonde viking watching her and tampering with his ability to protect her.  When she finally answered, Bruce’s relief was immediate, the sound of her voice soothing him, even though the worry was still bubbling.

 

_ “Bruce?”  _ she answered, knowing he wouldn’t be calling her if it weren’t important, Bruce typically never in a rush to get ahold of her otherwise.

 

“Myrna-- I need you to come home.”

 

_ “Right now?  Penni and I are almost done breaking down the gym.” _ She said, missing the tinge of disquiet in Bruce’s voice.

 

“Yes, now.” This time Myrna hearing in the shortness of his answer and realizing something had changed and not for the better.

 

_ “Did you find something?” _

 

“I did.” He heard her take a deep breath and the sound of a heavy door, likely to the gym, groaning on its hinges as she pushed it open; she was quiet, trying to keep from being heard  as she asked her next question.

 

_ “Is Penni safe?  Are my parents?”   _ Despite their limited information, Bruce had considered this before finding the stone.  He and Alfred had discussed different contingencies in case whatever was coming for Myrna used her family to get at her.  Something he had always been concerned about as he’d watched the number of connections between himself grow through Myrna.  He had always assumed they would be in danger because of his life as Batman; seeing now it may be because of something to do with Myrna was off putting to say the least.  There were options he could put in place for their protection, knowing Myrna would never leave them unattended without it.

 

“I’ll have Alfred send people to keep an eye on them, but I want you here, with me.” He answered firmly, Myrna sighing.

 

_ “Ok, let me get Penni out of here and I’ll be home soon.” _ She responded, Bruce knowing he wouldn’t be at ease until she was.  He hung up the call, immediately pulling up her GPS tracking to keep an eye on her progress as he made his way back to the glasshouse.  Alfred looked up from the computer he was currently working on as Bruce joined him in the batcave.

 

“Ah, Master Wayne, I’ve run a program to locate any changes in the coding of the security system, so far I have not found anything inconsistent bu--” he stopped mid sentence as Bruce tossed the stone he’d found on the table ahead of him, the older man adjusting his glasses as he leaned in to look at it.

 

“There may be a reason.” Bruce said, Alfred looking up from the stone to his charge.

 

“Are you saying this rock had something to do with it?” Alfred questioned, Bruce nodding despite the fact it seemed harmless and hardly something that could make a state of the art security system fail in its work.

 

“Tested the system after removing this, whatever it is, and it had obviously blinded the sensors from seeing living things that pass through it.  I don’t know how, but it was effective.” He said, Alfred pushing his chair back from where he had been seated, taking the stone with him, speaking as he examined it on the way to one of the work tables.

 

“It feels as though it’s producing a current.” He said as he slid it under a magnifying lense, Bruce agreeing.

 

“I thought the same, we should run it through some tests to see if it’s only disguised to look like a rock, something to explain how it managed what it did.”

 

“Are these runes?” Alfred said, more to himself than Bruce, muttering as he turned the stone under the lense.  Leaving him to his examination, Bruce checked the GPS on Myrna once more, finding she had left the school, heading toward the glasshouse.  He was glad this time it hadn’t been a fight for her to allow him a degree of control over the situation. Between the signs an attack on the planet was coming and this threat to Myrna, Bruce had started to feel some of that control slip away, he’d be damned if he slipped up now.

 

Myrna arrived back at the house within the hour, making her way down to the batcave when no one was waiting for her upstairs.  She found Bruce and Alfred working on something, she could only assume it was whatever had made Bruce want her back at the house immediately.

 

“There is no electrical current being produced by this at all-- there is clearly an energy emanating from it, but nothing that could be explained by internal electronics or batteries.” Alfred said, his usual calm demeanor edging on frustration.

 

“We could have made that assessment from the scans we took of it.  For all intents and purposes it is exactly what it looks like.” Bruce responded as he scrolled along something pulled up on his computer screen.  She realized they were symbols, formed with strong angles and straight lines that looked like something out of a fantasy novel. It took her a moment and getting closer to realize how accurate that thought was, as she saw they were runic symbols on his screen and they were currently matching to the language database she knew Bruce had.  She peeked over Alfred’s shoulder, realizing he was pulling electrodes off what looked like a river stone. Flat, smooth and about the size of her palm. The same runes that were being run through the computer Bruce was sitting at, were also carved deeply into the face of it. Alfred was surprised by Myrna’s hand coming into view, her fingertips reaching for the stone.

 

“Uh, Miss Myrna-- I don’t know that you should--” He began quietly, but Myrna wasn’t sure she was in control of this.  As her fingers came into contact with the smooth surface of the stone, she felt her heart begin to pump faster and the sounds of the batcave being pushed from the center of her senses to the edges as she heard a whisper in her ear, as though someone, not Alfred, were standing next to her, speaking.  She heard Bruce’s muffled voice as the database gave him an answer; just making out the words as he spoke them.

 

“The database has matched the runes and translated as closely as it can, given there’s no exact translation for runes to English, it seems to say--” Myrna cut him off, sounding almost dazed as her eyes stayed locked on carvings.

 

“Hide the flesh.”  She said, Bruce turning to face the work table, Alfred looking bewilderedly at Myrna as she spoke.  Bruce shot a look at Alfred who shrugged his shoulders that he’d had no control over this situation.  Bruce stood and walked to Myrna, taking her hand and withdrawing it from the stone, the look on her face she stared at it, concerning him.

 

“How did you know that?” He asked her when she finally looked up at him.  Although her senses were no longer overwhelmed, her heart was still pounding and a vein of fear shot through her.  

 

“I don’t know.” She said, unnerved and quickly seeing how much more serious all of this was than previously thought.  “I know it’s runic, but I’ve never learned how to read that sort of thing.” 

 

“Has whatever you just experienced happened before?” Bruce asked, gently, but seriously.  He suspected it had, but she hadn’t said so, their focus more on the man they were still trying to identify than anything else.  As all of this had proven to be stranger than it had originally seemed, now was the time to know. Myrna nodded, twisting her ring off her finger and holding it up.

 

“The night we spoke on the phone-- the one Penni was telling you about… We were talking and it felt like just now, everything was muted except the words I was hearing, like someone was talking directly to me but they weren’t here.  And then--” She rolled her shoulders knowing what came next was going to sound even more insane, “my ring glowed.” She finally said, waiting for Bruce to look at her like she was crazy, bonkers or otherwise lacking in sense, but he didn’t.  He took the ring from her fingers and handed it to Alfred, who immediately began sticking electrodes to it as he had the stone. Myrna looked at him confused, wanting clarification.

 

“The stone on the table was hidden in one of the main control boxes of the security system.  'Hide the flesh' corroborates with what I discovered when I found it, in conjunction with the energy it’s producing, I think that's what was allowing the man who’s been watching you to get through without alerting us.”

 

“The stone-- you mean THAT was preventing…” She trailed off as she looked at the rock.  Looking at it now, she couldn’t say what the runes were saying if she hadn’t already been told, turning her gaze back to Bruce, she could see she was finally becoming frightened and that upset him.

 

“It was, but we’re going to check the other boxes and  _ keep  _ checking them to make sure it isn’t replaced.  Now that we know what he looks like and how he operates…” He stopped as Myrna’s eyes dropped the to the floor, the look on her face telling him all he needed to know.  He tipped her chin up so they were looking at one another once more. “Now that we know all of this, we can make a change to our tactics.” He said, Myrna’s hands reaching out to grab at the edges of the his shirt, a button up left open over a dark t-shirt, dressed down to walk through the brush of the estate.

 

“This couldn’t have come at a worse time, Bruce.” She finally said, knowing there was so much more he needed to focus on.  She was bewildered by all of this; she had dealt with less than savory personalities before, in all areas of her work. As Penni had rightly pointed out to her earlier, she had already had her close call, with Martin Cooper, who was currently serving a sentence for his assault on Myrna and later his now ex-wife.  Bruce had seen to it that there was no chance of parole or early release, so if he managed to make it out of prison at all, he would walk out an old, old man. Despite the seriousness of this situation, she couldn’t help but feel like it was a well planned distraction for Bruce, when she knew there was much more coming.  He smiled at her, reassuring her as best he could that it wasn’t.

 

“There’s never a good time for something like this to happen, Myrna.  If I had my way, it wouldn’t be happening at all-- But you have my word, I  _ will _ protect you.” He said, Myrna matching his smile, some of the worry disappearing from her face.

 

“I didn’t ever doubt you would.” She said, knowing full well what Bruce would do, though sometimes it worried her.  Bruce felt that familiar pull to touch her, his hands lifting to her face, calloused thumb rubbing against the ridge of her cheek.  Bruce was confident in his intelligence, he knew many things others did not and he learned from every situation he was in; he was admittedly not as knowledgeable in the area of relationships, his own experiences random, uncommitted and often unworthy of repeating with the same person twice.  Until now. He had heard that after so long with a person, even if you loved them deeply for the rest of your days, that spark, the one that made you feel like you were on fire when you were around them, your blood pumping faster at the thought of their touch, sometimes disappeared as you grew comfortable.  Perhaps a year wasn’t enough for him to have experienced that with her in the way he’d had with overnight dalliances, but he was both comfortable with Myrna and still very much inspired to passion by even the smallest of her smiles. He was ready to show her with a kiss, when Alfred, who while analyzing Myrna’s ring, had caught a glance at one of the screens that was set to play the news continuously silently, the news report causing him to call Bruce and Myrna’s as well.

 

“Master Wayne, I believe you’ll want to see this.” He said, the two looking away from one another to follow his gaze.  Set to one of the many 24 hour news channels, this one was showing the ruins of a temple, Greek in construction, and although the surrounding area was smothered in darkness, the temple itself was glowing via a large fire that appeared to be raging at its center.

 

“Turn it up, Alfred.” Bruce said as he scanned the picture being transmitted world-wide, Alfred grabbing a remote from nearby and turning the volume up until they could hear the reporter’s voice, bouncing off the batcave’s walls.

 

_ “The fire could be seen for miles, blazing bright for hours since first being discovered and with no signs of stopping.  Authorities are stumped as to what could have caused the blaze as there are no obvious signs of arson at this time. Anthropological experts say they are concerned at the level of damage that could be done to the site, known in the area as the temple of the Amazons, if the fire is not soon contained.” _

 

The group remained quiet as the report concluded, no one sure what to say as they processed what they had heard.  After a moment, Myrna turned to look back at Bruce, worry reappearing on her face, though this time it wasn’t because of what was happening to her.

 

“The temple of the Amazons.”  She said quietly, Bruce nodding as he continued to watch the live coverage of the blaze.  Although the rest of the world might not see the significance of that detail, the three of them certainly did.  Myrna reached for Bruce’s hand, her touch bringing him back to reality, though his mind was racing at what it might mean.

  
“You need to find Diana, don’t you?” she asked him, Bruce remained stoic even as he turned to face her.  He was tense now; he did not know the exact meaning behind the fire but he had pretty good idea and he could tell Myrna did as well.  Obviously the only person they knew who would be able to answer that question for certain was Diana Prince, or as the small band of men that had known her before she chose to remain anonymous, Wonder Woman.  The princess born of Amazon and the Greek gods undoubtedly knew exactly what it meant from its sudden appearance. 

 

“I have a feeling she’ll find me.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The threat to the world and Myrna is creeping closer, but which one will reach them first?

As expected, the next few days were spoken for despite none of them really knowing with certainty what was going to happen.  Between the mystery of Myrna’s follower and suspecting at least one of Bruce’s still lackluster team would be joining them soon, they were all on edge.  It seemed to affect Myrna most of all, as by the end of the weekend, though she protested passionately against it, Bruce insisted she stay at the glasshouse rather than the academy so he might keep a better watch on her; while working on preparations for the attack he felt was inevitable.  She was heavily outnumbered on the matter, Alfred agreeing with little hesitation with Bruce and Penni going so far as to tell her they were perfectly capable of functioning without her at the academy. It was a hard pill for Myrna to swallow, having spent the last three years of her life completely dedicated to her work, not so much as taking a vacation-- unless one counted a scheduled holiday break with a tall stack of paperwork backlit by Christmas lights a vacation.  She knew she should be proud that she had such capable staff and as Penni had been a part of the academy since its inception, knowing as much as Myrna did about how it functioned and how her friend envisioned it, Myrna really couldn’t doubt everything would be fine even if she wasn’t able to return immediately.

 

That did not mean she didn’t still feel the guilt of leaving them without so much as a warning.

 

She was not idle as she waded through what felt like house arrest; Penni had brought her the large stack of documents that had been camping out in her office inbox and any messages that needed to be addressed immediately, so her friend wouldn’t try to run a coup to escape what Penni felt was a rather tranquil retreat.  This being her first visit to the glasshouse in the year Myrna had been seeing Bruce, Penni was rather taken with the simplicity of it; and although she had mentioned involving the police during the course of conversation with Myrna, she hadn’t pressed the matter. Penni was not privy to Bruce’s skillset outside of his CEO persona, but she was informed enough to know that Bruce had the will, the power and the wealth to figure out what was happening and likely more quickly than GCPD ever would.  It appeared everyone Myrna loved had joined forces to keep her busy and out of trouble. 

 

Alfred seemed to materialize out of thin air if she so much as tried to step foot outside the house for a breath of fresh air and Bruce popped up from the batcave where he was working on one of several projects that needed his immediate attention, every few hours to check in on her; Myrna assumed, to make sure she hadn’t taken off for work anyway.  She honestly didn’t blame any of them hovering because if she were being honest, she probably  _ was  _ a flight risk.  She understood the seriousness of this stranger intruding on her life, as well as Bruce’s; her instinct to keep on with her daily routine wasn’t out of some desire to put herself in danger or be irresponsible, but to show she wasn’t willing to be intimidated into hiding.  

 

This was her usual response to unsavory characters at the school and frankly, was an attitude Bruce himself frequently flaunted.  In Myrna’s mind, it was something he should have understood coming from her and he may have, but was doing a fairly decent job of ignoring it as he came up for the hundredth time in a day; usually under the guise of getting a fresh coffee, careful to make sure she was where he had left her.  Additionally, Myrna wondered as she’d only had one encounter with the stranger and it had not ended in tragedy, not to mention they had seen no further evidence of him on the property, if he had simply been a voyeur and now that he had been found out, realized he had chosen too difficult of a target.

 

In the back of her head, Myrna knew full well that was wishful thinking, enough so for her to stay begrudgingly behind, ironically, transparent doors.  They may not have found more stones like the one tucked into the main box of the security system, but that did not negate the momentousness of it having been found at all.  Alfred had run every conceivable test he could think of on the smooth, benign looking rock and thus far all he could legitimately prove, was that it was, indeed, a rock. The energy it had been producing, that was so obvious to the touch when first found had since dissipated and there was nothing to show how it had been able to produce anything at all; leaving them all baffled as to how it had managed to do what it had. Tests on her grandmother’s ring had also been inconclusive in explaining why it had glowed, or that it had happened in the ring’s recent history.  Both Alfred and Bruce made assurances they believed her story, but it seemed time and lack of witnesses was certainly working to make a liar out of her. Another reason she was in a hurry to return to normal activities. As she plugged her way through the mountainous stack sitting ahead of her on the dining table she had spread her work out on, thankful at least, for the view the large windows provided her, Bruce and Alfred continued their work many feet below her in the batcave.

 

 

* * *

 

Bruce grabbed a dry rag off his work table, pushing it against the side of the pipe he was currently wrenching closed to stem the flow of fluid that had been leaking from it.  One of many pipes and conduits tucked in the belly of the carrier he had recently acquired to move a team of metahuman warriors into battle. That is, if his team ever consisted of more than just two people.  Alfred was up a floor, working on several things simultaneously some of which included compiling a playlist of alarm sounds for Bruce to listen to and compare with what he had heard during his run in with one of creatures currently appearing throughout the city; as well as scouring the stone from the security box for anything that might give an indication of its origin.

 

“Although it has been polished within an inch of its life, there are some microscopic cracks in the stone that contained some type of matter.  I am currently waiting for the results of that to come through the system.” He said over the audio system connecting the many levels of the cave, Bruce nodding, as he threw the now soaked rag in his hand back on the work table, shaking his wet arm free of the rivulets of water currently running down it before he grabbed a fresh one.

 

“Anything else?” he asked, Alfred quick to answer.

 

“I did manage to find a  _ very  _ partial print on the stone, but it isn’t particularly clear and as facial recognition has been unsuccessful at identifying him, I don’t have much hope we will get a hit from it.” He said honestly, Bruce agreeing silently.  It was strange the man had not been picked up on CCTV  _ somewhere _ , but then again, his own security system had been evaded by a rock, so he really couldn’t say much on the matter.  

 

“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to focus on what your test results might shine light on.” He said finally as he reached up again with his fresh rag, gripping the wrench tightly and going at the pipe again.  He heard the familiar British grumble from Alfred and shook his head as he worked. He knew it annoyed Alfred as much as it did him that what they knew about this person was still next to nothing of help. The man had gone dark, not having returned to the estate or any of the other places Myrna could be counted on to be.  Bruce taking great pains to surveil, the academy, her old home with Penni and her parents home in Metropolis. Thus far, nothing out of the ordinary had been reported and he remained suspicious that there wasn’t more to it.

 

“I shall move onto the next order of business then.” He said, the screen of the computer sitting beside Bruce’s tools changing from the photos of the matter and fingerprint Alfred had found on the stone, to the list of alarm sounds he had put together.  He began playing them one at a time, waiting for Bruce to indicate which one sounded familiar to him. They had gone through several before he finally heard Bruce’s voice interrupt the noise of an alarm with a distinctive mix of long and short bursts of high pitched sounds; at a high enough decibel, it certainly wasn’t surprising it caused a negative reaction in a creature not of this world.

 

“That one-- Pretty sure that’s what made the alien go crazy.” Bruce said, looking down at the screen where the one he had chosen was pulled up, indicating all of its details.  Alfred went to work downloading the sound to a portable USB as he thought about his next steps. He would have to make changes to Bruce’s equipment to best produce the sound to be heard at wider range. 

 

“I’ll see about rigging something to the suit.  Won’t be quick.” He said, Bruce nodding as he put a little more strength into the turn of the wrench, the pipe and its assorted pieces fighting him. 

 

“Anything that can give me an edge.” He responded,  the line between he and Alfred going silent as the older man set off on his latest task.  Moments later he heard the click of well heeled boots on the concrete floor below him. He could tell from the sound it was a woman but wasn’t Myrna as she’d never wear any shoe with a heel over an inch or two.  As this woman was entering what should have been a secure area of his property that an infinitesimal number of people knew about, there was little doubt who it was. It was not lost on him that his security system had once again failed him, coming to terms with that fact as he won against the bolt giving him grief and managed to stop the leak flowing from the pipe.

 

“You know, I paid millions of dollars for this building's security?” He said as good naturedly as he could manage, the strongly accented voice of Diana Prince responding without apology in her voice.  After thousands of years worth of practice, it was second nature for her to enter a secured room without causing so much as a blip.

 

“Yeah, it looked expensive.” She said, Bruce giving one final twist on the wrench before he turned and set his tools down, wiping his wet fingers off as he walked to the edge of the lift he was on, leaning against the rails and giving her a muted smile.

 

“Hi.” He responded, Diana smiling back at him as she tipped her head up to observe the large vehicle currently parked in this section of bay.

 

“A new toy?” She asked, noting some of its guts were hanging out from where Bruce was working.

 

“Prototype troop carrier.” He answered, it now making sense why he was working so diligently on it.  She was unsurprised that Bruce had access to these kinds of things, learning more about him after their first experience fighting together.  She had already gathered quite a lot on him before they had even met, but once they had experienced battle together, Bruce asking for her help in locating other powered people, she wanted to know for certain what kind of man she would be working with were a team ever to come to fruition.  She felt herself become nostalgic as she thought about the carrier and its capabilities, her thoughts turning to Steve Trevor.

 

“I once knew a man who would have loved to fly it.” She said as she looked the transport from end to end.  Bruce knowing where her mind had gone as she did so, having done his own research on both Diana and the British spy known as Steve Trevor, who had first brought Diana into the public’s view during World War I.  It became clear through historical record and the personal accounts he had found during his dive into her history that she and Steve had been quite close before his heroic death.

 

“We’re going to need more than a pilot.  I think there’s an attack coming.” He answered, serious on that matter, as it seemed every day they drew closer to something that had no face but was seconds from showing it, the fate of the world hanging in the balance.  Diana brought her eyes back to his, matching his gaze, the thought sobering her from her moment of memory.

 

“Not coming, Bruce.  It’s already here.”

 

* * *

 

 

Myrna straightened in her seat, stretching her back and  looking down at her watch to see she’d been hunched over a stack of staff evaluations for close to two hours.  She’d shown no signs of stopping until her hand started cramping over the copious notes she was writing to include with them as she completed the digital copy.  Thankfully, the majority of those notes were reminders of strengths and creativity she wanted to praise as she met with each teacher, only a few instances of less comfortable conversations to come among them.  She shook out her hand, the joints of her fingers screaming their displeasure at being bent at such an unnatural angle for so long. It was midday, maybe a little later as she’d already forgotten what time she had read on her watch and wasn’t motivated to look at it again.  All she knew was now that she had broken her concentration on the evaluations ahead of her, she didn’t care to go back to them right away. She just had to have them completed by the end of the week, meeting with the teachers would have to happen whenever she wasn’t under house arrest.

 

After a few moments of letting her mind wander until she had sufficiently brushed off thoughts of evaluations and grant proposals, she stood, leaning back to stretch all the muscles that had gone unused for the vast majority of the day.  She felt the line of vertebrae in her back pop in quick succession, relief immediate as her body started to remember what it felt like to move. Rolling her shoulders, she moved toward the glass windows that gave the view she most loved here, body longing to do more than just look at from inside the “aquarium”.  She knew Bruce was busy working on transport for those who agreed to join the team. Though as of this morning that was still just him and possibly Diana, who they had yet to hear from. And Alfred had been puttering away at a thousand things at once since the news of the unexplained fire in the temple half a world away had put them on high alert.  If that was even possible to be on higher alert than they already were. She had offered to help wherever either of them might need her, but thus far they had kindly, but clearly, told her she wouldn’t be much use. She might not know how to rewire a batsuit, but there was plenty she could have helped with that she had before, so she could only surmise the two of them didn’t want her to dwell on anything but her regular work.

 

Wouldn’t they be surprised.

 

Although they had continued his search for the identity of Myrna’s stalker and had been going through what little evidence they had, the stone being it so far, with a fine tooth comb, they had yet to be successful.  As the stranger had not returned, or at least there was no evidence of his return to the estate, the main focus had turned to preparing for war, while still working to keep Myrna secure. She thought about this for a moment, knowing she should probably at least tell someone she was going to leave the inner sanctum of the house.  Which felt ridiculous, considering the whole thing was basically just glass with a few walls thrown in for good measure. If he wanted to see her, all he had to do was find a good cover in the trees, as he’d been doing, and watch her to his heart’s content. She looked out across the lake once more, the sudden desperation to feel a breeze for the first time in what seemed like years, even though it had only been days, was difficult to resist.  The call of fresh air and the sound of the wind rustling through the trees was too overpowering a prospect for her and before she even realized what she was doing, she had pushed her way out the back door, onto the deck just ahead of the house.

 

Myrna was delighted to have escaped the house as her lungs filled with cool, refreshing air; the cobwebs that had built up in her mind from being shut up in a house built to mock her at a time like this, tearing away with every strong breeze that twisted around her.  She had always had a respectful connection with nature, she admired it and took pains to help her students, especially when she had had her own classroom see the near perfection found in it and to respect it themselves. There was a symmetry to most things found outdoors, everything had its place, a purpose and its design so well thought out, she had never believed it was simple chance that had led to the Earth she lived on.  In this moment though, she felt far more attuned to that admiration than she ever had before. Rather than remembering the feeling in the moment when something caught her eye or the natural indifference that occurred in a person who was far too busy to recognize it frequently, she felt the connection quite keenly, now that she had been coerced into making the time. It wasn’t long before just stepping out long enough for a breath turned into a few steps closer to the water’s edge, bare feet sinking into the soft, sandy soil surrounding; the bottoms of her feet capturing a curious buzzing that ran through her with every step.  Then a few steps turned into shortening the distance entirely until her toes were just dipped within the cool water. Everything was still green around her, but there was a chill in the air that was threatening the beginnings of colder weather, cold enough that she would normally be uncomfortable by the iciness of the lake’s waves. She didn’t notice it now and before long she was up to her ankles in the cold and dark blue water.

 

She stood, water lapping at her flesh, just long enough to lose track of time.  She felt her mind empty of all the sounds she so loved to hear while outside; it was not unlike those times, more recently that she had experienced but this time she was unafraid.  She felt the buzzing she had felt as she’d walked nearer to the water, but it reached more than her feet. Her body was pins and needles as though it had been asleep this whole time, only just waking up, she didn’t know what to make of it as her mind struggled to make sense of the feeling.  

 

_ “Myrna.” _

 

Myrna heard her name being called on a whisper, but did not recognize the voice, her movements sluggish as she turned to look for whoever was calling for her.  She turned her head, looking over her shoulder and seeing nothing only to turn back, the pins and needles fleeing from her to be replaced with shock as she came face to face with a woman.  Myrna felt her body react to the surprise of her closeness, this person she didn’t know who could touch her just by reaching out her hand. Myrna’s reaction was just as slow as before and she wondered if she had even moved at all.  The woman was Myrna’s height, maybe a little shorter, with dark brown eyes and pale skin, she wore a simple green dress, the fabric clearly made by hand, the material rougher and less perfect than that made by machine, a thin but sturdy leather cord at her waist that held a pouch and a small dagger; the hem of her dress disappearing into the water, though looking at it, it seemed untouched by the wet.  Though her features were plain and were clearly of another time, there was one thing that made her stand out and that was her long brown hair, the sun striking it and setting flame to it as though it were hiding a fire within it. Myrna felt a connection to this woman, a complete stranger that had no name to her. Startled as she might have been at first, Myrna felt that settle into a guarded kinship she couldn’t explain.  The two of them stood silently, staring at one another as though both were trying to place the other. Finally the woman spoke and although her mouth moved as though she were having a normal conversation, her voice sounded far away, thin, as though a strong gust would steal it from her. She spoke in a language that didn’t sound at all familiar to Myrna but somehow she understood as she had with the stone and on the wind weeks before.

 

_ “I know you, child.  You are of me.”  _ She said, though Myrna had no idea what she meant by it.  The woman eyed her again, looking her over as though trying to determine what that meant for the both of them.

 

_ “But you are lost.”  _

 

She said it so matter of factly, Myrna had no choice but to believe it true, that she was lost, even though she questioned it anyway.

 

“Lost?”

 

_ “We were given a gift, long ago.  But you do not know it. How do you not know it?”  _ She said, only half answering Myrna’s question and questioning herself as though this was a baffling mystery to her as well.

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

_ “I think you must soon-- You must let them find you, show you.” _

 

“Who?  Show me what?”  Myrna said, growing anxious now as she struggled to find answers where there did not seem to be any within easy reach.  She felt confusion bubbling in the pit of her stomach, not only from this meeting, but that she felt free to leave but could not make herself do so.  The woman regarded her again, hand reaching out toward Myrna, startling her at the sudden move and causing her to jump back; the spell it seemed was broken, and the cold of the water overwhelmed her skin.  She barely caught herself before she fell into the lake entirely. 

 

Alfred, after spending several minutes calling to people over the intercom realized no one was where he had left them and he was alone in the house and took to tracking them down. He reached the living area of the house in record time, and upon seeing Myrna’s makeshift workspace abandoned, immediately became concerned.  He looked about the house, concern growing as each potential place she could be came up empty. It wasn’t until a flash of red caught his eye and he looked through the glass windows to see Myrna standing almost knee deep in the dark water of the lake. 

 

“What the hell?” He asked himself as he rushed to the back doors and pushed them open. He squinted to see her face from the distance he stood away from her, making out the movement of her lips as she seemed to speak to someone or something. He couldn’t hear any words that she might be saying, but at that moment he was less concerned about her conversation and more about her safety as he rushed down the stairs and toward her. 

 

“Miss Myrna!” He said, voice raised in hopes of capturing her attention, but to no avail as she didn’t respond to him. It wasn’t until she suddenly jerked back, as though burned that she was distracted from whatever had such a grip on her attention. She almost fell into the water, Alfred with little thought of what might await him there, drove into the water full speed. His usual sensible utility boots and work pants becoming soaked within an instant and the cold of the quickly deepening water bit at his own skin. Although she had caught herself before falling straight into the water, she still seemed to be fighting off an air of confusion and fear, leaving her unstable on her feet.  She nearly screamed when she felt something grab her from behind, immediately becoming defensive until she recognized Alfred’s voice, speaking to her in soothing tones. 

 

“Alfred?” She questioned as he came into her view, the pull of the woman who had been standing before her broken but leaving her awash with groggy confusion. 

 

“Miss Myrna, are you alright?” He asked her, his hands gentle but firm on her upper arms as he steadied her. She looked around, knowing she wouldn’t find what she was looking for, whatever spell that had overwhelmed her was gone and she was quickly coming back to reality.  She looked down as the cold and wet bit at her bare legs and feet and realized Alfred was soaked from feet to lower thigh, Myrna feeling a rush of guilt pour through her as it became clear the older man had rushed into frigid water to help her from whatever insane thing she’d been driven to do now.

 

“Alfred, you’re all wet, I’m so sorry.” She said, allowing him to turn her so they were side by side, wrapping an arm around her and taking her hand with the other to offer his assistance in returning to shore.  He shrugged his shoulders, nonplussed at the idea he’d been put out at all.

 

“Please believe me when I say, Miss Myrna, I have been through far worse than water logged boots.” He answered as the two of them sloshed on until the shoreline came closer and the water didn’t pull at their legs so much.

 

“I am far more concerned about you…” He added as they broke the water’s edge and walked toward the house.  Myrna shook her head and pushed her hair out of her face, finding her skin was flushed with embarrassment that poor Alfred had been dragged into this mess now, she was sure now she was certifiable, walking out of the safety of the house and practicing her best lady of the lake impression to be rescued by her graying knight.

 

“I’m fine, Alfred.  I’m so sorry.” She said, Alfred patting her shoulder but not letting her go as he continued to guide her as they walked, it apparent he was concerned she was still a flight risk.

 

“You keep apologizing, Miss Myrna-- There really is no need… If I’m being honest, the water was rather refreshing.” He said with a joking tone, though the look on her face told him she wasn’t in good enough humor to find it funny.  He could tell she was embarrassed by her actions, though he suspected even after the few clues they had discovered so far, it wasn’t by her choice. Miss Myrna was hardly so reckless and Alfred believed there was far more that was supernatural in this world than met the eye.  She didn’t get to respond before the two of them heard Bruce’s concerned yell from across the lake. They turned to see him moving quickly, Diana following suit, clearly in response to what they had seen. Myrna sighed and turned to sit down on the edge of the steps, rivulets of water still running down her legs.

 

“Great.” She muttered, knowing it was bad enough Alfred had not only seen her acting the fool against her will, but had to rescue her as well.  Add Bruce to the mix and the two would be even more concerned and likely never let her leave the house until they knew for sure she wasn’t just a risk to herself.  Alfred looked down at her kindly, having a sneaking suspicion he knew what she was thinking. 

 

“You know he cares for you deeply--  With all the uncertainties you both are facing now, he worries for you.” He said, trying to help her understand that although Bruce was naturally protective for those he cared for, but for a woman he loved, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to keep her safe.  Myrna nodded as she waited to see Bruce round the edge of the lake toward them and the eventual onslaught of questions and “what were you thinkings” coming for her.

 

“I know, Alfred-- But that’s the last thing I wanted to cause him.” She said, the comment final enough he knew she was reserving any more words for Bruce’s arrival.

 

“Of course, Miss Myrna-- Perhaps I should get us both some dry towels.  It’s a bit too chilly to be wet outdoors.” He said, hurrying into the house and his self-appointed duties.  The two of them were perfectly imperfect for each other, never wanting to be the reason the other suffered anything to the point they almost did anyway. Personally, Alfred longed for a day all that was behind them and the two could live simply with one another. He feared he might be dead of old age by the time that happened though. 

 

* * *

 

 

“We’re asking people we don’t know to risk their lives.”

 

“I know,” He said as he started to walk back toward the house, “that’s how this works.” Bruce knew Diana felt a certain amount of hesitation in asking people to put themselves at risk for this cause. Although he could understand where she was coming from, he was more or less of the opinion those with the kinds of abilities this small group did, didn’t really have a choice but put themselves at risk. If they didn’t there would be no world left for them to hide in. He left Diana to ponder this for a moment as he walked slowly back to the glasshouse, until he felt an inexplicable urge to look toward it. He couldn’t explain what had drawn him to do so, but the usual quiet of the surrounding cove of trees had gone eerily silent.  He looked up to see a figure standing a ways out in the waters of the lake and felt his gut tighten in surprise as he realized who it was, the deep auburn of her hair giving her away. He started to walk faster toward the house, almost forgetting Diana was behind him until she spoke up.

 

“Bruce, what is it?” She asked as she followed him back to the house.  They kept pace with one another, Bruce looking across the water to check on Myrna every few seconds.  She seemed frozen, the water high on her legs as she stood there. Although he knew it was her, her face was far enough away he couldn’t see if she was speaking.  He stopped short when he saw her fall back, a surprise for both of them it seemed as she flung her arms out to catch herself as she fell backwards. He was relieved to see Alfred had also seen Myrna’s state and had come to her aid, keeping her upright and leading her back to dry land.

 

“Is she alright?” Diana asked as she stopped beside Bruce, knowing just from the look on his face that he was beyond concerned for her.  He shook his head as he picked up his fast pace again, saying something he hated having to say out loud, much less admit.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

It had been an advantage long before Myrna’s presence at the estate to have so much land, dissuading common criminals and the occasional motivated paparazzo from spending too much time risking getting lost or caught by looking for the glasshouse, tucked well into the wilderness of the Wayne estate.  Now it was a curse as he had so much to cover before he could reach her and be sure she was unharmed. By the time he and Diana reached the house, Alfred had returned from inside the house, dry towels in hand for Myrna and himself. Myrna ringing out the hem of the dress she was wearing before wiping down her still wet legs.  Alfred was using his own towel to dab at his pant legs, sopping up what he could without risking his reputation of generally being unmoved by chaotic situations. 

 

“What happened?!” Bruce asked, voice straining between the stoic exterior he frequented daily and complete concern.  Alfred made a move to step between Bruce and Myrna, knowing what was coming. Both had charged themselves with keeping her safely indoors where they could pretend they weren’t monitoring her every move.  Clearly there had been a breakdown in that unspoken plan and Alfred would be damned if Bruce’s brewing displeasure would be taken out on Myrna.

 

“Master Wayne-- If you must blame anyone…” He began but he was cut off by Myrna, seeing her stand out of the corner of his eyes, towel in hand, her wet dress still sticking to her legs.  

 

“You’ll blame me-- for going outside, when I should have asked permission.” She said, walking beside Alfred, apparently unwilling to let him take the brunt of whatever wrath was headed their way anymore than he was.  Her willingness to do so didn’t exactly help smother that wrath, Bruce’s eyes narrowing at her response.

 

“It’s not about permission, Myrna-- It’s about--” He started, but Myrna was on a mission to interrupt it seemed.

 

“My safety.  I know.” She said, Bruce lifting his hands questioningly, the volume of his voice becoming louder, despite his best efforts to remain unruffled.

 

“Then what were you even doing out here alone?  From what it looked like, Alfred had to come find you!” He said, Alfred and Diana finding themselves becoming more awkward with every second as Myrna stiffened defensively at Bruce’s tone.  She knew Bruce wasn’t acting this way because he was out of line, he had a reason to worry for her and she hated that more than anything in the world right now. It wasn’t his fault these things kept happening, but the fact they still didn’t know why they were happening at all was eating away at her and her ability to remain understanding whenever Bruce, who was still learning what it meant to be in a committed relationship, was overwhelming in responses to every single thing that might go wrong.

 

“I don’t know, Bruce!  I needed to get out of there--” she said waving her hand at the glasshouse, “I was going snowblind from staring at printer paper.” 

 

“Then why didn’t you call Alfred?”

 

“And what? ‘Hey, Alfred, you’re in the middle of really important, time-sensitive work, but could you come up here because I’m apparently incapable of walking ten feet away from the house on my own?  Thanks.’” She said, looking at Bruce exasperatedly, who had already reached that point by now.

 

“The middle of the lake is  **not** ten feet, Myrna.”

 

“I can’t explain that!” She said, knowing sooner or later she was going to have to and she didn’t know how, certainly not with an audience.  Her eyes flicked over to Alfred, the older man picking up on it immediately, as he let out a tension breaking cough, offering his arm to Diana.

 

“Uh, Miss Prince, shall I make you a cup of tea in the house?” He said, Diana knowing he was doing his best to allow the two of them to work out their issues without the added pressures of people watching them.

 

“That would be wonderful, Alfred.  Thank you.” She said, walking by Myrna giving her a light touch on shoulder in reassurance, before taking the offered arm and allowing herself to be led back into the house.  It was quiet for a moment as Bruce and Myrna waited for the two of them to be fully committed to their plan to make tea and leave them alone. Myrna found herself looking away, to anywhere that wasn’t Bruce’s eyes.  She knew the longer she kept trying to avoid telling him why she had taken the scenic route into the water, the less time they had to figure it out, but there was still a part of her that didn’t want to see the look in Bruce’s eyes that said he thought she was crazy.

 

“Myrna.”

 

Hearing him say her name was strangely calming, despite her fears and she felt herself begin to pine for his arms around her, in reassurance this wasn’t making him want to walk away from her.  She took a deep breath and looked up at him as she exhaled. As she finally looked him in the eye, part of her was ashamed she’d ever feared he would do such a thing. For all his bluster, she could see it in his face that he was more than worried for her; if she could even imagine Bruce being terrified, she was almost certain this is what it would look like.  

 

“Promise you won’t try to have me committed when I tell you?” She asked, only sort of joking, he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.  Not that she had expected it to.

 

“Whatever it is, Myrna, I know it isn’t because you’re crazy.” 

 

“Are you sure?” She asked, Bruce giving her a look that made her shake her head.

 

“Right-- of course you are-- you’re Batman.” She said, knowing he wouldn’t have much humor left if she kept dragging this out.  She was a little surprised when Bruce reached out and took her by the waist, pulling her to him, even though their closeness left his jeans wet from the still soaked hem of her dress.

 

“No… I’m Bruce, the  _ man  _ who loves you.” He said, Myrna feeling the reassurance she had hoped would come, pour through her.  Her hands found the familiar hold on the front of his jacket, the teeth of the zipper digging into the tips of her fingers.  She buried her face in his chest, reassured but still not wanting to admit anything out loud; her voice muffled against him.

 

_ “I couldn’t help it.”  _ She said, Bruce letting out a small amused snort and lifting her face.

 

“What?”

 

“I couldn’t help it… When I came out here, I had to go to her.”

 

“To her?”

 

“The woman-- I saw a woman standing in the lake and she… She wanted me to come to her, she told me I had to let them find me… That I was of her…” She said, finding it hard to believe, despite the continued placid look on his face that he didn’t think she’d gone completely bonkers.

 

“But I didn’t see-- Alfred didn’t see anyone…” He started, knowing Alfred would have happily reported the presence of another to defend Myrna as the old man was well aware Bruce’s anger, though not directed at Myrna, would have come through at some point.

 

“I know!” Myrna said, fingers tightening in the folds of fabric in her hands, her voice raising against her will.

 

“I know.” She said, more softly this time, looking at Bruce, pleading that he wouldn’t think it was pure insanity coming out of her mouth.

 

“Myrna, if you say you saw her, I believe you.” He said, the pleading look on her face turning to relief as she leaned up and kissed him, hard.  He found his hands reaching for her face, cupping the outline of her jaw, before digging into her hair and pulling her closer to him. They had been in the same house for days, always within a short walk of each other, but he had been so focused on completing the never ending list of priorities for this team, while also looking for answers to Myrna’s situation that he hadn’t slept, much less left the batcave for longer than a few minutes at a time.  His walk with Diana had been the first he’d even left the building. He hadn’t realized how much that would bother him until this moment. He let her go after a moment, the two breathing hard as they both recognized how much they had needed one another.

 

“I missed you.” He said quietly, hands still holding her face gently, Myrna smiling back at him.

 

“I missed you too.” She responded, knowing exactly what he meant.  Bruce looked out across the lake, willing it to give him answers about what Myrna had seen and gone through.  It didn’t, so he placated himself with another long look at her, the fear of him not believing her story gone from her eyes, replaced with something else, the soft swelling of her lips from the strength of his kiss giving him a pretty good idea what part of that look might be.  He wanted very much to give in to that, the feel of her against him, not quite enough to satisfy him now. Unfortunately this wasn’t the time and place, so he would have to keep himself in check and maintain some composure until, hopefully, there was a better time and place. He placed another kiss, careful to try to kill all doubt she might have that he didn’t desperately want her right now before he moved back.

 

“I think we should tell Diana about this, Myrna.  She’s been around long enough, maybe she knows something about the stone we found, maybe even knows about this woman you saw.” He said as he mimicked Alfred’s earlier gesture and offered Myrna his arm, who took it without hesitation.

 

“You’re right…” She started as they climbed the stairs into the house together, “Though you might not want to lead with ‘you’ve been around long enough’ when talking to her.” She said, Bruce chuckling.

 

“Why?  Think she’ll be offended?”

 

“No… I think she’ll kill you.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some new evidence comes to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies at the delay of a new chapter. The last month has been very busy for me at work but also in my personal life. For the last year I have cared for one of my dogs who was severely disabled, his condition grew more difficult as of late and last week, I had to make the very difficult decision to let him go. Between work and the loss of my boy, I didn't really have the will or the creativity to write.
> 
> I'm getting back on track now, so I sincerely hope you'll enjoy this latest chapter and I will have more for you soon. Thank you for sticking with me!

It felt ridiculous to Myrna, to feel sharing what she had seen with Diana would make the dark-haired Amazonian think her unstable. Seeing as she was… An Amazon. And the daughter of both a god and a queen. And was over five thousand years old. Myrna considered things as logically as her already racing mind could handle, steeling herself against the round of questions, she would undoubtedly get from both Diana and Alfred. She and Bruce stood quietly on the lift as it moved them down toward the batcave. Although she had already told him some of what had happened outside, she hadn’t gone into excruciating detail, she wasn’t sure how much she had to say before he really did think twice about being involved with a looney bin escapee. Her silence obviously gave Bruce an idea of where her mind was at, or rather, where it wasn’t. Myrna almost startled when she felt his hand enclose hers. She looked up at him as light filtered through the grating of the elevator, one level at a time.

“It’s going to be ok.” He said just loud enough to be heard over the gears moving them in their downward direction. Myrna gave a still silent nod and a weak smile, not sure she could appropriately vocalize what she was thinking at the moment. She trusted Bruce implicitly, she had total faith in him that he would do everything he could to help her figure out what was happening to her, whether it was supernatural or early onset insanity, but despite that belief she was struggling to be at ease anyway. As the lift came to a halt, the two bracing for the short jolt that usually accompanied it, she felt Bruce’s hand tighten on hers again, stopping her from stepping out as the doors slid open ahead of them. Myrna looked at him, concerned that he was holding them back, to find his face set.

“It’s going to be ok.” He repeated, this time more force, in case she hadn’t believed him the first time. It was strange that of the two of them, he was the most optimistic on what the outcome would be in this situation. For the last year, Myrna had been the one who had seemed to live in a state of glass half full, even when times had been particularly trying. Myrna smiled again, this time trying to put more behind it so he might believe her, though if anyone would be able to see through her, it would be Bruce.

“I know.” She managed to breathe out, Bruce waiting a second longer before lifting her hand to his lips, pressing a warm and gentle kiss to the back of it. It was a silent promise to her, Myrna could feel it, that he should be believed and for a moment, she found she did. When he was sufficiently sure she was convinced, he dropped her hand and offered her his arm. She took it gratefully as he led her off the lift and out into the batcave, the two of them making their way to the computers grouped on one end of the room, Diana was sitting before them looking at a map with a small red indicator blinking on it, Alfred peering over shoulder.

“It seems you have a date, Ms. Prince-- About time somebody around here does…” They heard him mutter, Myrna looking at Bruce, who shook his head. Alfred had been vocal as of late, that although this was the longest lasting relationship either of them had been in for a long time, the two of them had spent far too much time apart; the old man making remarks in his usual waspish tone that he would be damned if the Wayne line ended on his watch-- or that they had better get a move on before he died of old age. It seemed they weren’t safe from it even when they weren’t in the room. Diana turned when she knew Bruce and Myrna had reached them, gesturing toward the computer screen and its accompanying map.

“Victor Stone… It seems he knows who we are.” She said, more toward Bruce but inclusive of Myrna. Knowing the auburn haired woman, although not on the frontlines, was still deeply involved with this mission. If Myrna hadn’t come to consider Diana a good friend, she might have let herself fall victim to the pettiness some women felt when they were clearly in the presence of a far more attractive woman. There wasn’t anything, at least to Myrna’s eye, that wasn’t physically perfect. Tall, dark and gorgeous, she could crush a person to death with her bare hands, while lulling them into trance with her accent. Meanwhile, anyone could try to hate her, because she was clearly intelligent and an overwhelmingly kind woman, but it would only backfire and make them realize how awful they were for thinking it. It was a vicious circle, but although she and Diana were infrequently in the same time zone, she very much appreciated what Diana’s friendship had already provided her and that she would be having Bruce’s back in this. She didn’t know if Bruce had figured out she and Diana were friendly, but suspected it didn’t matter. The Amazon was very much a part of their lives now and until proven otherwise it was a good thing. Bruce acknowledged Diana’s comment with a nod as they stopped beside the table.

“Have you set up a meeting then?” He asked, indicating the blinking red dot on the map displayed on the screen, Diana nodding in the affirmative.

“He found me-- I don’t know that he will be all that willing though.” She said, Bruce shrugging the thought off.

“None of us are willing, but it’s the job.” He responded, Myrna shaking her head. As always, to Bruce, it was very clear what needed to be done, and this hesitation from the others who had gifts far beyond even his own, was frustrating to him. Diana was more understanding, since she would fight when necessary, without complaint, but never held others to that standard. Expecting others to put their lives at risk, even when they had powers some could only dream of, wasn’t Diana’s style. Diana gave Bruce a look that seemed to indicate all of what Myrna had been thinking, in one well placed expression. After making sure he saw it, Diana looked to Myrna, face softening in response to her friend’s presence.

“Are you alright, Myrna?” She asked, Myrna feeling a rush of embarrassment again at the sight she must have been, wading out into the middle of a lake without rhyme or reason must have made her one card short of a full deck. She nodded, knowing they’d all have to discuss it eventually, to see if Diana had knowledge they didn’t, but she wasn’t in much of a rush to get to that discussion anway.

“Yes, thank you.” She answered quietly, Bruce walking over to the table that held everything Alfred had managed to gather on what they knew so far; which if you weren’t careful, you would blink and miss. He scooped the stone into his hand, dwarfing it against the size of his palm. He returned to Myrna and Diana and held it out.

“It’s a long shot, but what do you know about the use of runes?” he asked, Diana taking it from him, holding the polished rock up to better see the markings inscribed on it.

“Some-- There were variations of runes used throughout much of the European continent and beyond… This appears to be, if I’m not mistaken, futhark-- Still difficult to say for certain as it is a form of writing that changed frequently.” She looked up from the stone to Bruce, “Does this have to do with what happened to Myrna today?” She asked, Bruce nodding as she studied it again.

“Myrna… Has an-- admirer.” He said, Myrna sighing and shaking her head.

“We don’t know what he is-- just that he wasn’t invited.” She said, shooting Bruce a look. Whatever was happening here was more than being fancied by an unwanted visitor, she could feel it. She just didn’t know why. Bruce was less convinced, he had seen many elaborate and equally as illegal acts performed by criminals throughout the years that were ultimately proved to be a cry for attention from someone they wanted romantically. Myrna didn’t know that, but he did and that was enough for him to consider all the options. Not to mention it still gnawed at him that this man, whoever he was and whatever he wanted, had gotten through his security once too many times.

“He’s managed to elude my security system on several occasions, has even spoken to Myrna. After some investigating we found this hidden in one of the control panels. Although it isn’t doing anything right now, when it was, it was hiding him from the cameras.” Diana closed her fingers over the stone in her hand.

“You mean magic was hiding him.” She said matter of factly. Bruce growing uncomfortably silent, he didn’t care to use the word magic, even though he had seen plenty in his time as the Batman that could be classified as that from the untrained eye, but those experiences didn’t override his belief there were better explanations than just sweeping it all under the label of ‘magic’.

“That’s one way to describe it.” He said, feeling Myrna stiffen beside him as the suggestion became obvious. Diana smiled at him, although she was kind enough to refrain from patting him on the head, it was clear she thought, in this moment at least, that he was naive.

“It may be the only way to describe it, Bruce.” Diana said, she lifted her hand with the stone as she spoke. “Although I am more well versed in histories outside of the Celtic sphere, I know a little about runic magic… There were and obviously still are, tribes that use stones such as these as charms in druidic ceremonies; I would not be surprised if this is from one of them… Is this all you have found?” She asked, Alfred speaking up to answer.

“It was emitting a type of energy for a short time, but it dissipated shortly after we discovered it. I was unable to determine how it was producing it… I found a partial print on the surface that won’t do us much good, but found some microscopic matter on the stone as well. I was going to check on the results after--” he looked up at Myrna almost apologetically, “after I went to make sure Miss Myrna was still in the house.” He said, Myrna feeling a wash of guilt trickle down her back as she realized what a chore it must be to have to babysit a grown woman who kept doing such ridiculous things. Diana, as usual, moved beyond that, indicating she was curious to find out if the results had come back as well.

“Might we check?” She asked, Alfred turning and gesturing toward the system that was tasked with identifying what had been left on the stone’s surface.

“Certainly.” He said, the group shuffling over and huddling around as Alfred began typing furiously at the keys. His bushy and graying brows drew together as graphs and charts and chemical compounds crowded his screen.

“It appears it has completed its analysis.” He said, Bruce and Diana leaning in to look over the results with him, Myrna hanging back, unsure of how to feel if this would give them even the slightest hint as to what was happening to her.

“Scots Pine…?” Bruce finally said, his voice a mixture of relief to know they had another piece of the puzzle to use, while also recognizing there were only more questions now. Myrna could hazard a guess using the critical thinking skills she often taught at school that what they had identified was certainly a plant and that of the tree variety, but she was afraid to put her guessing to the test. Diana read the synopsis of data they had on Scots Pine before she and Bruce both looked to Myrna, both looking at her as if she should know the significance of this discovery.

“So… Scots Pine, huh?” She said, voice tight despite the levity she had attempted to inject with little success. Fortunately both could see Myrna wasn’t in the mood to try to guess what it meant and Bruce kindly took the lead.

“Scots Pine, is a tree that has become extinct in the British Isles-- except for in Scotland.” He started, Myrna looking him in the eye and waiting for him to continue the lesson, “The largest population of Scots Pine currently, though it has been significantly decreased over the last few centuries, is the Caledonian Forest; in the Highlands.” He finished. Although it was new information, Myrna couldn’t help but feel it wasn’t much help.

“I guess we already knew that though, since he was speaking to me in Gaelic and had a Scottish accent.” She said, everything Bruce had just said seemed more obvious because of the experiences she had already endured. He didn’t feel the same way though, looking at her as though she were missing some key point.

“Myrna, we’ve at least pinpointed from where in Scotland-- It’s at the very least, a starting line for us to search from.” He responded, Diana nodding in agreement from where she stood.

“The population in the Highlands today, is very small as well-- After the Jacobite rising, Highlanders were outlawed from most of what was their way of life, chieftains no longer had the power over their clans they once did, they were banned from wearing their clan tartans; the large numbers that once lived in the Highlands have dwindled to this day.” She added. Myrna had known some of this already, but recognized her resistance in accepting its importance because she was struggling to come to terms with the fact this had anything to do with her. Obviously it did, there would be no reason for them to be looking into it otherwise, but it was causing her difficulty. Diana turned to look at Myrna now, her face gentle but questioning.

“What else has been happening?” She asked, Myrna quiet even despite being asked direct question. Bruce might have assured he believed her, that she had seen what she had seen, felt what she had felt, but that didn’t mean Diana or Alfred would. For a woman who frequently encouraged the imaginations of the children who walked the halls of her school, she wasn’t willing to give herself the benefit of the doubt she hadn’t been imagining what she had seen, or even if she had there was a reason for it. Other than insanity of course. Diana reached out a hand, resting it gently against Myrna’s shoulder.

“If you are afraid we will think you are not sane, I would remind you that most men of this planet would think me insane if I told them who I am and where I was born.” She said reassuringly, the corners of her mouth lifting into a smile, “Also-- you are in love with a man who dresses as a bat to fight crime.” She added, Myrna feeling the tension that had been pulling at her snap like an overly taught bow string as a bubble of laughter escaped her. She was surrounded by so many things that would not be common place for anyone outside of this room and yet she lived with it unquestioningly, daily. The worry that out of everyone here, she would be the one with the strangest story was misplaced and she now realized that. She felt Bruce’s hand at the small of her back, looking up at him to see Diana’s point had been humorous to him as well.

“I should be offended.” He said gruffly, not actually offended as her statement was accurate. The lives they led would not be normal by the standards other people lived by.

“You’re right…” Myrna responded after her laugh subsided, looking back to Diana and taking a deep breath before she explained what had happened. Her very first experience when she’d had to chase Daisey into the forest beyond the house, the strange light emanating from her grandmother’s ring when she had been talking to Bruce, touching the stone Bruce had found and knowing what the runes inscribed on it said, and now, feeling drawn to the water and seeing the woman with the hidden flame in her hair. She explained hearing the woman speak in an unfamiliar language but understanding her as though she was fluent in it and how she had said she was of her. Whatever that meant. The three stood silently, listening to Myrna intently, not interrupting or passing open judgment of her. Diana for her part seemed intensely curious, likely her work in antiquities stemmed from an innate interest in history, or at least of knowledge as at five thousand years old, she must have lived through quite a lot of it. When Myrna finished, she felt considerably better, like she had managed to share a secret that had been eating at her all this time. Bruce looked to Diana, brow furrowed and a somewhat hopeful tone as he asked her questions.

“Anything sound familiar?” He asked, also taking into account Diana’s age and considerable travels in the last hundred years. He was clearly hoping she had heard something in Myrna’s description of her experiences that would ignite a memory of something for Diana. It seemed that hope would be rewarded as Diana pursed her lips, thinking about how to word what was crossing her mind.

“I do not have personal experience with them and many of the stories I have heard are from Roman accounts, which tended to support their being the victor in many conquests, but there was a group, Celts-- a cult to the Roman eye, that were particularly devoted to a tribal goddess. This goddess, Andraste, was said to have led them to victory against the Romans on several occasions before their revolts were put to a stop. They felt very strongly connected to the Earth and it was said they used the runes to channel its energy for their needs.” She met Bruce and Myrna’s looks as she shared what she knew, “Admittedly I do not know as much about this as I would like-- I would have to contact my colleagues in France, one in particular is an expert on Celtic history and mythology. He would be the most likely to know something about what I speak.” She said, Bruce nodding before his attention was drawn to the buzzing of his phone, a fresh set of GPS coordinates greeting him as he did so. Despite wanting to dig deeper into this situation, he was reminded that his other responsibilities were in need of his attention as well. He looked to Diana, who could guess what he was looking at.

“New coordinates for Barry Allen, looks like he’s staying put now so we’ve likely got his current address.” He said, sore to admit they would have to leave now that they may have a lead. Diana nodded, looking to the clock on the computer screen nearby.

“Victor Stone expects to meet soon, I should go as well.” She responded. The admission of this causing the even minor accomplishments they’d made tonight deflate. Myrna, finally having allowed herself to become comfortable with the fact these experiences had happened and those she had entrusted with knowing of them supported her regardless of how supernatural they seemed, was almost disappointed they couldn’t find out more now. She stayed silent on that feeling, however, knowing that it wasn’t out of lack of desire on anyone’s part to figure it out, but a lack of time. Far too much was happening now and it was a matter of triaging; the priorities of the two protectors of the Earth had to make them decide what needed to happen now. Myrna watched as Diana said her goodbyes and went to ready herself for her meeting with the cyborg, Alfred immediately took to puttering with the device he was working on to make Bruce’s suit project the sound he’d discovered affected the aliens on his last encounter. Which left Bruce and Myrna to head towards the upper levels of the house together.

They were quiet, the only sound emanating from the lift as it moved upwards toward their living space. It wasn’t uncomfortable silence, but it was full of unsaid words regardless. The doors finally opened to the room separating the Batman and Bruce Wayne. Bruce pushed the door open to let Myrna step through, moving from one world to the next. Although considerably lower than it had been when they first entered the batcave, the natural light the glass of the house let in was still bright. She started walking back to the table where her work had been abandoned earlier, not sure she’d be able to get back on track on things as trivial as evaluations, her mind focused on what they had discussed below. She stopped when she heard Bruce’s deep voice call her from behind.

“Myrna.” He said, watching her as she stopped and slowly turned to face him. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say in the split second it took her to look at him, but realized as her hazel as met his that the words were there but disjointed.

“We’re close, you know.” He said, reassuring her in his own way. How could he tell her he loved her, they’d found out more than they’d known for the last two weeks and he would get to the bottom of this, without letting the words overwhelm them both? She smiled and nodded, starting to turn back toward the table, but stopped as Bruce split the distance between them with a few long strides, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward him. They were mere inches apart, his face near hers again, as though begging her to believe him.

“We’re close.” He repeated, Myrna lifting her hands and cradling his face.

“I know.”

“Do you?” He asked, wanting to be sure, wanting her to have that faith in him that she’d had for so long until this man, these visions, this unexplainable magic had brought a doubt that he knew chewed away at that faith. He found that although he had never cared much if others perceived him as a good man, his life as Batman requiring the scum of humanity to think he wasn’t, he cared deeply that Myrna believed he was and that he could protect her. With everything happening now, all at once, where he had to choose between her or the world, he discovered a struggle that he’d rarely had before and had known from the second he had met her might be a problem.

What a glorious problem to have, despite everything he had ever told himself in the last twenty years.

“I do, Bruce.” She said, realizing, from the look he was giving her that he was experiencing something new. He wasn’t afraid of much, so it was difficult to believe it was there, but he was afraid. That there was a possibility she felt he was failing her. Which couldn’t be further from the truth. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer to him until he wrapped his around her. Chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat, breath to breath, she had never felt more safe and she said as much.

“Whatever this is, I know the answers will be revealed soon, but until then, never feel like you haven’t kept me safe…” She paused as she thought of what else she could say to help a man who had never seemed to need much reassurance about anything. “You are who you are Bruce-- You are the Batman and you are Bruce Wayne and both of you are mine.” She said against his ear, feeling his arms tighten against her back in response. He leaned his face down until his mouth was pressed against the crook of her neck and shoulder, pressing a kiss against her skin, the warmth of his lips sending a shock through her even though she’d felt it many times before. She had never had a man who could continue to make every kiss and touch feel like the first time.

“And you are mine, Myrna.” He said, muffled by the enticing scent of her skin. She lavished in that moment for as long as she could, letting it repeat in her head and taking it in as long as she could before she sighed and tried to step back.

“Don’t you have to be somewhere?” She said, reminding him that there were some things that couldn’t wait any longer. Bruce didn’t want to let go, holding her where she was before he pulled back, a suggestive look in his eye.

“I was planning on changing into something else.” He said, still dressed in the clothes he had been wearing while working on his troop carrier. Myrna tilted her head, playing dumb, knowing what he meant but not letting him get his way just because he was Bruce Wayne.

“Good idea-- first impressions are always important.” She said, patting his chest as though she were getting ready to go back to work. He grabbed her hands, keeping them at his chest as he leaned in to capture her mouth for a kiss.

“I was hoping you could help me.”

“Pick a tie?” She responded, still playing dumb and loving how frustrated it made him. World’s greatest detective and here he was struggling to say he wanted to get naked with her.

“Not what I had in mind.” He said, Myrna shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders.

“I can’t help you then.” She said, quickly cut off as Bruce let out a frustrated grunt and bent just enough to wrap his arms around her again, lifting her over his shoulder so all she could see was his back as they moved toward, what she could only assume was their bedroom.

“Put me down!” Her cries of insincere annoyance left ignored.

“Oh no-- I need your help with a tie.” Bruce responded, Myrna laughing harder than she had laughed in the last few weeks as they disappeared to the other side of the house.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hours until Steppenwolf's arrival are counting down and Myrna's mysteries are only adding up. There is light at the end of the tunnel, but it's possible Myrna will have to go to it on her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm slowly getting back into writing. This whole story has been beating around in my head and I want to tell it so badly, but sometimes motivation is a jerk and takes off when you'd rather it not. I hope what I've been putting out for you all has been worth the wait though!

Shortly after being swept away to parts unknown, Myrna had to see Bruce off once again to find Barry Allen.  She _had_ actually helped him pick out a tie, but not after he had distracted her too many times to count as she did, kissing her neck and pulling her close as she reached for one of the many he had stored in the closet hidden in the wall.  At least they had managed to multitask and get him ready to set off, his usual business attire taking the place of his work clothes; the occasional hesitation for stolen kisses and the touch of hands in intimate places, between pieces of clothing. She wasn’t ashamed to say Bruce’s well toned body never failed to grab her attention. She felt a relief that felt misplaced that all of this drama that had occurred thanks to her had not put him off her and even a palpable disappointment from him that he had to leave to work on his own problems when he wanted nothing more than to stay with her.  As much as she loved Bruce, her willingness to weather many a storm with him unchanged and her trust that he felt similarly was still strong, she knew that everyone had their limits. Between whatever was coming and this, who knew if it was the type of storm that sank even the most unsinkable of ships.

 

Bruce had barely been gone an hour, Myrna trying to get herself back into the swing of her normal life by focusing on her staff evaluations again, when she felt like she was being watched.  Admittedly this was a feeling she had found herself having quite a lot since they had confirmed, in essence, she had been for a very long time. This time, however, she was more certain than she’d ever been before that there was actually someone watching her.  She knew what Bruce would have wanted her to do and that was to call Alfred immediately, the old man having an unspoken arrangement with his employer that when Bruce was not at the glasshouse, he was responsible for Myrna’s safety. Despite being incredibly frustrated with herself that she was once again doing something that would upset Bruce and frankly was stupid despite labeling it independence, she found herself leaving the safety of the glasshouse.  She found the strength of mind, she noted, though it would only console her and certainly not Bruce, to grab a knife from the block in the kitchen before she pushed through the glass doors to the outside world.

 

As she stepped out into the open air once more, the hair on the back of her neck lifted, as though an electrical current was being run through her, goose-flesh appearing on her arms.  She was strangely unafraid despite these physical transformations, her feet walking her to the water’s edge once more. The world went quiet again and she found herself hearing the voice of the woman she seen earlier, running through her mind.  She looked around, waiting to see her again but saw nothing. The pessimistic half of her, the one she lovingly called, _Bruce_ , told her it was because she had hallucinated what she had seen before, so searching for it now would do her no good. So engrossed in thought about this, her heart nearly stopped as she heard a voice behind her.

 

“Are ye ready?”

 

Myrna jumped, turning to face the voice behind her, simultaneously unsurprised and shocked that it was the blond-haired man they had been trying to identify since all of this had started.  Although she knew she probably should be running for the house, or at the very least telling him off for trespassing once again, that independent streak in her that drove Bruce insane when it meant she was in danger, told her she needed to try to get him to tell her what it was he wanted of her.  To find out why for almost the entirety of the year, he had been watching her, stalking her and interrupting the course of her life.

 

“Ready for what?” She finally said, pleased she had managed to make herself seem unconcerned that he was invading what should be a refuge for she and Bruce.

 

“To learn who ye really are.” He said, Myrna finding she was growing tired of the cryptic nature of this whole charade.

 

“I think I’m very aware of who _I_ am; what I don’t know is who you are and that’s a problem.” She answered coldly, the man moving forward, Myrna instinctively backing away, the hand holding the kitchen knife gripping the handle tighter and lifting defensively ahead of her.  She might have been an idiot for putting herself out her in the first place, but she wasn’t stupid enough to go down without a fight. His face broke into a smile, one that if Myrna had to describe, appeared almost proud. Why a man she couldn’t identify more than a stalker would be proud of her, Myrna couldn’t say, but that’s the only word she could put with any certainty to it.

 

“Good-- Good, I’m verra happy to see yer at least willin’ to defend yourself, insteada dependin’ on that ungodly rich naff of yers.” He said, seemingly still willfully ignorant to his unwelcome presence. Myrna became further incensed as he insulted Bruce, while still looking at her as though he had any business looking at her at all.

 

“Well the _rich naff_ doesn’t much care for trespassers and stalkers and frankly, neither do I. Why don’t you head back the way you came, give the police something to do.” She said, the blond shaking his head, disappointed at the suggestion she would call them, but still irritatingly confident that wouldn’t be the case.

 

“Yer not goin’ to call the police and I’m not goin’ te leave.  Not just yet.”

 

“And why is that?” Myrna asked, her head tilting back as she eyed him, trying hard not to make it clear how much he was infuriating her.

 

“Because yer not really angry— yer curious. A year of keepin’ an eye on ye has told me ye want answers, about who I am and what I’ve been doin’ here in this ridiculous city of yers.” He said, pausing a second before adding, “Besides, yer man might work with the police, but he doesna want them here either— They don’t like bats much.” He said, Myrna feeling a swift change from vague agreement that she wanted answers, to a spine chilling anxiety at his words.  He might not have come right out and said he knew Bruce was the Batman but he might as well have; was that really what this was about? That none of this was really about her, but a mind game against her to get to Bruce.

 

Bruce likely wouldn’t have even blinked at the suggestion regardless, who knew how many times someone had threatened they had the means to expose him. A year ago Lex Luthor had done that very thing, but he was still in Arkham and thus far there weren’t reporters camping out in the fields to get an exclusive with the vigilante and Bruce still walked free.  Myrna however, wasn’t Bruce and found she was having a difficult time not wanting to punch this stranger’s lights out for the mere suggestion he knew an identity he shouldn’t. She remained silent, but she knew her face likely had her concern written all over it. It was confirmed with a shrug from her visitor.

 

“Come now, I wasna being serious— Ye’ve no need to be afraid of me, truly. I’ll bring ye no harm—“ he started but was abruptly stopped as a swath of black netting, crackling with electricity enclosed him; his body jerking violently as the current from the net now surrounding him, overwhelmed his limbs. She heard a few choice words escape him as he tried to fight the contraction of his muscles in response to the surprise, but he was unsuccessful. Seconds later a wiry form joined Myrna and the blond, Myrna realizing it was Alfred as he bent down and shoved a device against the raging Scotsman’s neck, a significant clicking sound escaping it and the response to whatever it had administered instantaneous, as he stopped struggling, his muscles only responding unconsciously to the electrical current in the net.

 

“You’re absolutely right, you _won’t_.” He muttered, deactivating the electrified netting with a push of a button on the device that had deployed it. Myrna looked up from the now unconscious man laying on the ground, a look of disbelief on her face.

 

“Alfred!” She managed to choke out as Alfred pulled the net off of the man, throwing it over his shoulder and yanking the arms of the sleeping visitor up and began pulling him towards one of the entrances of the lower levels of the house. Thankfully for Alfred, it wasn’t far from where they were, though it was clear the younger man was quite heavy. The older man finally looked up after an extended silence from his charge.

 

“Yes, Miss Myrna?” He asked, breath coming a little harder as pulled the blond man along, careless if the limp form ran into anything along the way. Myrna followed beside, still stunned but finding the words.

 

“Did you kill him?!  Alfred, is he dead?” She asked, not knowing what to think, other than she knew very well that Alfred had been left in charge of her in Bruce’s absence, but certainly hadn’t expected him to drop a body in front of her to follow through on that duty. Alfred rolled his eyes as they reached the hidden doorway, typing in his personal code and opening it towards him.

 

“No, Miss Myrna, I did not kill him, he’s merely sedated. But while we’re on the subject of things we didn’t do but _should_ have, perhaps you and I should revisit what _‘stay in the house’_ means?” He pontificated as he rolled the still limp man unceremoniously onto the platform that would lead to the bat cave; a loud metallic thud echoing down the shaft as he landed hard against the grate.  Myrna stared as Alfred adjusted him so he wouldn’t inadvertently lose digits or limbs as they traveled downward.

 

“He asked me if I was ready to know who I really am—He was going to tell me who _he_ is, until you electrocuted him.” She said, an accusatory tone coming through a little too clearly and catching Alfred’s attention over his huffing and puffing as he moved the man out of the way for Myrna to join him as well.

 

“And he still can, once he’s been contained— Or shall I wake him up here and leave you two alone?” He asked annoyed that Myrna was apparently offended she’d been interrupted. Myrna stayed quiet, though her jaw was tight; taking her silence as a blessing, Alfred let out a sigh.

 

“Good, because the blond git weighs more than he looks— Master Wayne will have to fend for himself after this-- I’m quite sure I’ve thrown my back out.” He grumbled, stepping back and gesturing for Myrna to join them.  She stepped onto the metal grating of the lift and it set off the only direction it could. Myrna found herself studying the unconscious man as they did. Given he had managed to keep out of Bruce’s sight and reach for the span of a year, she found it strange he would be so easily blindsided by Alfred.  Not that Alfred wasn’t a force to be reckoned with when the need arose; it just seemed sloppy after such care not to be caught. Despite the rough introduction to electricity and sudden injection of sedative, his face was settled peacefully, as though he had intended to fall asleep and hadn’t been tossed onto a grate by a man who was twice his age at least.  She was taken aback by the strangest feeling, one she couldn’t shake that despite the fact he had effectively spied on she and Bruce and who knows what else, she didn’t fear him. In fact she could feel a need to trust him very distinctly. The feeling was in mortal combat with the rest of her that told her how stupid that was; but it was there nonetheless. She didn’t have long to observe him before they reached the bat cave, Alfred exiting ahead of her and turning to pull the man out of the lift.  Feeling guilty that he was having to lift the heavy young man on his own, Myrna immediately knelt and took him by his ankles, helping lift him. Thinking to herself that Alfred had not been wrong; awake the man was heavy, unconscious he was a boulder.

 

As expected there was a room that could be used for containing someone with a certain skill-set, particularly the skill-set for staying hidden for a year, that was well separated from the cave otherwise.  The two now sweating from the effort of carrying such a heavy man as they crossed what seemed miles of concrete floor before tossing him into it.

 

“He should stay sedated a few hours more, I will tell Master Wayne about his presence once he checks in with young Barry Allen.” Alfred said, brushing his hands off before locking the door with a code and activating the security cameras that lined the room so he could be watched while Alfred continued working in the bat cave.  He said it with a finality that Myrna assumed meant he felt she could go back to business as usual, but Myrna knew very well that wasn’t going to happen. She would be lucky if it happened at all while the man, currently slumbering on the hard floor, was anywhere near her. She’d already had a hundred questions for him, now they seemed to multiply.  They were closer to learning what all of this had been about, why he had been secreting around the estate watching her and how it was going to affect her life now.

 

“Are you alright, Miss Myrna?” He asked when she stayed quiet, still looking at the now activated screens showing the inside of the room.  Myrna took a second before she answered, inches from someone who could finally clear up all of this mess, so she could get back to her life was frustrating.

 

“I’m fine, Alfred.” She responded, finally turning to look at him, defiant as she pushed her hair out of her face, “I’m just ready for this to be over with.” She walked over to one of the chairs throughout the cave, making herself comfortable, Alfred sighing as he realized she wouldn’t be going back upstairs.

 

“Are you certain you wouldn’t be more comfortable upstairs?” Alfred asked her, “I suspect Master Wayne and Miss Prince will be needing my attention this evening.” He added, hoping she might leave him to his work and keep her mind on other things.  It worried him to have her so close to her would be pursuer, not only because of the man’s strange ability to have stayed hidden for so long led to a concern he could free himself from the room he was currently contained in, leaving him free access to Myrna; but also because Myrna wanted answers and her patience to wait until Bruce’s return was waning.  Alfred could only hope encouraging a separation between the two would slow that need for answers down. As she settled, eyes drawn to the computer screen focused on the man still prone and unconscious in his holding cell, he knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

 

* * *

 

 

A few hours on the plane listening to Barry Allen jabber on about brunch and what he considered odd human behavior, or rather normal human behavior that Barry simply was too awkward to understand, Bruce was inordinately happy to hear they had arrived back in Gotham.  Diana was waiting for the two of them at the airport, maintaining a passive look on her face as they were lowered to the ground with Bruce’s Audi.

 

“Find the cyborg?” Bruce asked as they got closer to her, Diana nodded, affirming she’d found Victor Stone, though she knew he wouldn’t be happy with the answer to the next question he had.

 

“We spoke.  Give him time.” She assured him, she was confident that despite how torn Victor was, now that his life had been forever changed into that of the cyborg, he would come to the conclusion he needed them; that he had a purpose even if he didn’t see it.  She could sense Bruce’s irritation that they were two for four now and those odds weren’t good enough. She didn’t push it further, turning her attention to the young, dark haired man beside Bruce in a maroon colored hoodie. Although he was new to this situation, he seemed to be overly excited, taking in the sights around him before he focused on Diana, she smiled warmly at him and introduced herself.

 

“You must be Barry, I’m Diana.”  As he took in the sight of her, she could see his eyes glaze over a little and his demeanor change slightly as she shook his hand, he was a young man who obviously didn’t have much experience talking to women.  He smiled back her, answering jovially.

 

“Hi Barry, I’m Diana.” He stopped, realizing the words that had just left his mouth were wrong, “Wait… That’s not right.  Great.” He added, mentally kicking himself as he lowered his eyes, slightly embarrassed that he’d gotten things backwards. Diana kept her smile friendly, not offended in the slightest, Bruce looked at Barry, keeping his face placid, but a slight tilt to his head gave it away that Barry’s awkwardness was irritating to the normally comported man.

 

“So, this is us.” Diana said, indicating the three of them, Bruce letting out a strained sigh.  It wasn’t enough, but it was what they had. He supposed in some other time he had worked with less, with similar odds and he had survived, maybe they would too.

 

“Yeah, this is us.” He answered, he and Diana’s attention pulled back to Barry as he let out an excited gasp.

 

“Oh, awesome!” The young man exploded, pointing toward the sky, Diana and Bruce looking up to see that amongst the thick clouds cluttering the evening sky was a bright spotlight, the middle of which contained the shadowy outline of a bat.  It was familiar to Bruce and Diana was definitely intelligent enough to know what it meant but Barry’s exuberant fan-boying was not something he could keep to himself.

 

“That’s the bat signal, that’s your…” He began, catching himself as he realized how loudly he was speaking, throwing his finger to his lips to shush himself while continuing in a whisper, “Oop, sorry-- That's your signal, that means we have to go now.” Bruce had to catch himself from letting out a particularly sarcastic response to his new teammate.

 

“Yeah, that’s what the means.” He said simply, looking up at Diana and realizing she had a look on her face that made him feel like he was being dressed down.  He gave her a placating look in return as Barry remained oblivious to their silence, continuing to stare at the signal as he walked.

 

“That’s so cool.”

 

As they walked back toward the vehicle that contained their supplies, Diana waited until Barry was happily admiring Bruce’s suit and utility belt inside of it before she quietly asked after Myrna.

 

“Is Myrna alright?  I sent word to my colleague’s in France but I doubt I will hear back from them right away.” She said, Bruce not sure how to answer.  His most recent memory of Myrna was one that he would not be sharing with anyone, but made him quite happy to think back on. After his reassurances to her that they would figure out what was happening to her together, he had tried to take her mind off of it, even for a little while; feigning a need for her help in getting him ready to find Barry, when in reality, he just desperately wanted a moment of intimacy with her.  Feeling her press against him, her soft skin under his mouth, her turning her head just enough to show him where she wanted his next kiss, the feeling of her hands against him as she responded to his attentions. To be honest, the oncoming apocalypse had seemed like it could wait, finding Barry Allen and the cyborg the last thing on his mind as she helped him remove his flannel and t-shirt to change. He realized he had been longing for her all this time even though she had been within his reach the whole time.

 

“She’s… Scared.” He said shortly, knowing that despite doing an exemplary job of keeping her cool, Myrna _was_ scared.  Scared she had no answers and couldn’t explain what was happening to her.  Diana nodded.

 

“That is understandable, this must be such a strange situation for her, especially for one who was not born into a life like ours.” She said, indicating that as an Amazon and Bruce a product of terrible circumstance, they had both entered into this world as heroes, without much choice.  Myrna, of the three of them, had not been. Her life normal until the last few years, made even stranger as she had entered into a relationship with Bruce, met some of the team he was trying to create and the dangers that team would face. Now she had her own dangers and he knew it terrified her not to know why.

 

“She’s also afraid it would distract from what we’re having to do.” He added, Diana smiling as if she knew that already.

 

“What?” Bruce asked as he saw it, Diana continuing to smile as she opened the door to their vehicle.

 

“She has been afraid of that long before you discovered someone watching her, Bruce.” She answered, Bruce’s brow wrinkling as her words only made more questions arise in him at her implication.

 

“Myrna is and never has been a distraction.” He said almost curtly, but the tone of his voice didn’t offend Diana as she clarified.

 

“Myrna loves you, Bruce.  And it is clear, though you try to hide it, you feel the same of her.  She knows what being the Batman is for you, she has since the moment she decided she wanted to be with you.  That is why she asked me to help her learn to defend herself.” She said, Bruce not used to being surprised feeling it quite strongly in his gut as he realized what she was saying.

 

“Are you telling me you’ve been training her?  When? How?” He demanded, feeling especially stupid that he, of all people, had not been aware of this.

 

“Technology can be a powerful thing, Bruce.  It connects people who would never know one another otherwise.  Granted the best training is always that which is hands on… I can at least say that I have work that gives me great freedom on occasion.” She said, Bruce feeling that surprise spider out from his guts into his veins.  Looking back he realized he _had_ noticed changes in Myrna, subtle changes, or so he had thought; how she moved with a balance she hadn't always had, her reactions in situations quicker, the strength in her body when she wrapped herself around him as they were intimate.  None of this, no matter how obvious now, had made him wonder. How out of touch had he been with Myrna in this last year, so wrapped up in his work that he couldn’t even recognize she was being watched by a stranger he couldn't say wasn't looking to cause her harm-- and couldn't even tell she had been training with an Amazonian warrior? And after they had just told one another they would be honest, no secrets, that he had to find out from Diana that she had chosen to go to someone else to learn to fight.  That she was learning to fight at all.

 

“Why wouldn’t she tell me all of this?”

 

“Perhaps she was afraid you would try to stop her.  She values your trust more than anything, but she was concerned you would tell her no.” Diana said, Bruce’s eyes snapping as he looked at Diana, unsure if he should be grateful or infuriated that she had helped Myrna keep this from him.

 

“She shouldn’t have been afraid to come to me, I would never tell someone they can’t learn to defend themselves, much less Myrna...” He said, but Diana’s reserved but serious look shut him up.

 

“Myrna knows when you are with her, you want to be with her as Bruce, as a man and her lover-- Not the Batman and vigilante.  That she provides something to you that you have felt you couldn’t have for a very long time, not just love-- A more normal life.  Something the two of us know little about. She was concerned she would be taking that away from you, if you trained her as you had been trained.” Diana responded, Bruce feeling cold at the thought.  His training, though very effective, had been brutal and cruel. The mere thought of Myrna, his innocent, beautiful Myrna going through that actually made him sick.

 

“I wouldn’t have put her through that.”

 

“Then you would have done her a disservice if she _had_ come to you.  She is a teacher, Bruce. She would not stand for being half-taught, especially when her reason for learning was out of respect for you.” Diana told him sternly, but understandingly.

 

“Respect for me?” He asked, it was difficult to believe it was out of respect when Myrna hadn’t said two words to him about any of this  

 

“I have told you more than what I should, Bruce.  You should talk to Myrna if you want answers to your questions.” Diana said as she slid into the car, tucking her long, booted legs in with her before shutting the door between them.  Bruce looked up at the signal still lighting the night sky, knowing they needed to get moving. This feeling of being torn between to priorities was strong now, but he knew one had to be dealt with before the other.  No news from Alfred was good news, which meant Myrna was safe for the time being. It wouldn’t be much help to Myrna if the world ended in the next few days and life with her had taught him she would tell him as much.  Sliding into the vehicle with the others, they set off, preparing themselves for whatever news awaited them at the other end of that signal.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myrna starts getting the answers she needs, but are they the answers she wants?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! I know it’s been another long wait for an update, so thanks for coming back around! We’re starting to get into a big mix of fact or fiction. I’ve done as much homework as time will allow and incorporated it into my writing. I know from a historian’s standpoint there may be some raised brows, but from a readers standpoint, I hope you find it intriguing and enjoyable. Thanks again for stopping by!

Myrna knew better than to bother Alfred while he was on the job for Bruce.  As technical support and a thousand other things he may need as Batman, it was necessary for Alfred to be as focused on the task at hand as possible.  She’d grown used to sitting quietly, waiting for a break in between Bruce’s needs to talk to the old man or to inquire about something she didn’t know or understand just yet about Bruce’s tech or style as the Batman.  Most of the time she stayed out of the way altogether and waited for Bruce to come home, thoroughly encouraging him to talk to her, not just because she was interested, but because she didn’t want twenty years of internalizing to continue.  Bruce wasn’t known for being chatty and he was particularly good at expressly allowing himself to take the guilt for just about anything he felt he needed to. To be honest, right now, it was easy for her to stay out of the way, her mind completely focused on the man sleeping off  Alfred’s cocktail of sedatives. He was starting to get fussy, still asleep but on the verge of wakefulness, his body fighting against some powerful drugs in his system. She was impressed by how much fight was in him, another person probably would have just been still until they were awake enough to do whatever they needed to, but not this one.

 

Her veins were buzzing, fingers twitching against the armrests of the chair she was sitting in as she stared at the screen connected to the holding cell.  She knew caution was all Bruce would want her to use with him; she doubted he’d even want her to go near him were he to wake in the next few minutes, rather waiting for him to come home and get answers out of him himself.  She might have been more willing to acquiesce to this a few weeks ago, but not now.  No this was personal and she didn’t want to wait for answers. She had a sneaking suspicion the man in that room wouldn’t talk otherwise anyway; as  _ persuasive _ as Bruce could be, in her gut she knew this man would go through hell with Bruce before he gave anything up.  It had to be her. She didn’t know how she knew this, but it was as clear as day to, as though she knew him. __ She heard Alfred talking to Bruce, drawing her attention away for a moment.

 

“Braxton Island.  You should be directly under the venting tower for the tunnel.” He said and Myrna looked at the screens he was sitting ahead of, seeing the plans for the abandoned line of tunnels on the island ahead of him and a small picture within picture showing what Bruce and the others were seeing.

 

“Now look to your left,” he continued, eyes roving the plans ahead of them, marking where they were currently,  “you should see a staircase. It’ll give you access to the machine room.” He said, seeing them enter where he’d directed and finding the staircase he’d been referring to had seen better days.  Something the team made sure to comment about, as if they weren’t all gifted with some ability that would allow them to overlook such a thing. She heard Bruce begin to give directives but was cut off as they all proceeded regardless.  Myrna felt a twinge for him; she understood he was used to working alone, being thrust into the leader of this team had not been high on his lists of things he wanted in life. He had told Myrna before that he’d hoped Diana would lead, something she seemed naturally adept to do, being the daughter of a queen who lead thousands of warriors and had done so for thousands of years and all.  Diana’s own abilities at leadership clear throughout history as she’d fought for justice in the world as Wonder Woman. Myrna had told him after so many years of staying relatively dormant in that life, it was possible Diana wouldn’t want to be responsible for that if they managed to put what little options for team members they had together as planned. As usual, he had decided it was for the best and Diana would just have to come to terms with it.  If one knew Bruce’s identity as Batman, there really was an overabundance of evidence as to why he tended to work alone. 

 

Whatever happened after that moment in the tunnel Myrna couldn’t say as she felt strange, muscles tensing as she looked back at her screen, recoiling slightly as she realized their visitor was no longer asleep but upright, solid, without the slightest sign he had been drugged and he was staring directly into the camera.  Staring at her.

 

She looked back at Alfred who was still engrossed in following the team’s movements throughout the tunnel system on Braxton Island.  He was not going anywhere anytime soon and he would not likely be looking over here to see if their guest was awake yet. She stood up quietly, making sure not to distract Alfred and left the room, heading down the long hallway until she reached the holding cell.  It felt like a thousand miles as she considered what it was she was going to do before she reached him. What was she going to ask him and what would she do if he answered? She still wasn’t sure by the time she reached the cell, hesitating before she pressed the button to activate the intercom between them.  Both stood silently staring at one another for a moment, apparently waiting to see who wanted to go first. Finally, Myrna decided it was now or never and the longer she waited the more chance Alfred would figure out where she was and try to stop her until Bruce returned.

 

“Who are you?” She finally said and he tilted his head observe her through the thick glass of the window into his cell.  As much as she knew she should be worried about him, that he was dangerous and been following her all this time, when she looked at him, she just didn’t feel that way.

 

“Do ye really not know?” He asked, sounding genuinely perplexed at her ignorance.  She shook her head no, although she could say there was no fear of him in her, she couldn’t say why.

 

“I think this conversation would be going far differently if I had any idea who you are and what you want with me.” She told him, her face staying as passive as she could make it even though inside her guts were twisting with nerves. 

 

“Ifrinn fuil, glas-nathrach…” He said running his hand through his hair as though he truly couldn’t believe how clueless she was. Myrna crossed her arms over her chest, growing more annoyed with every passing second. 

 

“Listen, you can waste your time cursing at me and treating me like I’m an idiot for not knowing who you are or what I am or what you want from me,  _ or  _ you can start talking. I’m fine with letting you rot in here, but I don’t think you’re a man who spends a year of your life watching someone, only to waste away in a dark hole somewhere.” She said with an authority that caught his attention and he peered at her through the glass, a smile tugging at his lips. 

 

“Ye sound just like her.” He finally responded and Myrna’s head tilted in the obvious question. 

 

“Sound like who?” She asked him and he smiled widely in return, blue eyes suddenly bright with pride. 

 

“Yer grandmother.”

 

It took Myrna a minute to register what he had said before she was able to respond. 

 

“I’m sorry, did you say  _ my  _ grandmother _?”  _ She asked and he nodded, showing no signs of being disingenuous.

 

“Aye.”

 

“Well you couldn’t possibly be, both sets of my grandparents passed away several years ago.” She responded and he shook his head as though she would be the last person to know that members of her family had long since died.  Myrna didn’t know how to react to this, if his game was to upset her, she wasn’t sure how disagreeing with something she knew was fact would be effective for such a thing.

 

“Your grandmother-- Murine.”  He said and she nodded, knowing full well who Murine was.

 

“Yes, she was married my grandfather Erwin-- I was named for her, but she  _ died _ , almost fifty years ago.” She replied, knowing this story about as well as anyone could.  Myrna’s mother had lost her own mother when she was about five or six years old. Her grandfather had never spoken of it, just said he had loved her more than life but she died.  Anyone who really knew her grandfather, could see her death had broken his heart completely and although as a military man and gentleman, had kept his emotions close to the chest, it could be seen throughout his life that her loss wasn’t something he would recover from.  Choosing not to remarry, despite being widowed at the tender age of 21 and having to raise a child alone even as career SAS, he could never bring himself to find another, never able to see it as anything but replacing his one love. She had admired her grandfather for this, despite all thoughts to the contrary that a man in his position could manage to remain loyal to his country, while worrying about raising a child.  Her mother, for all her quirks had turned out fine, successful and happy with her life and any bad memories she might have had from the experience were outweighed by the world her father had worked very hard to give her. The only thing lacking was truly knowing what had happened to the love of her father’s life, something he had taken to his grave.

 

“No.” Was all the man standing in the cell bothered to respond with, leaving Myrna irritated.  She was starting realize it was possible his plan was succeeding, angering her into confrontation with him.  She was going to have to be mindful of the words she let fall out of her mouth now.

 

“For a man I’ve never met, you seem to think you know more about my family than I do.” She answered him and he smiled again, though this time there was no smugness, nothing that might make her feel he was mocking her, in fact it was almost sad.

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it nathrach-de… It’s just when it comes to Murine, I do know more, but not through any fault of yer own.” He said and Myrna felt her chest tighten against her will as he spoke to her.

 

“What do you mean, through no fault of my own?  What are you saying, that she’s not dead? Because I have a mother who grew up without one that would tell you otherwise.” Myrna snapped back and the blond man nodded, in agreement.

 

“I feel for her.  And I know Murine has felt keenly the loss of her child, but ye’ve called it without realizin’-- Muirne’s not dead.”

* * *

 

 

Bruce’s new team returned from their first encounter with the power he and Diana had known was coming. They had been sorely unprepared for what had been waiting for them under Gotham Harbor.  Along with the destruction of the tunnels, the Nightcrawler had been destroyed, Barry had been injured and Steppenwolf and his miscreant bugs had managed to escape without interruption. At least they could claim they had saved most of the hostages Steppenwolf had taken for questioning and Arthur Curry had had a change of heart about helping them. Though from the permanent glower on his face, he certainly didn’t want to be here. Bruce couldn’t blame him though, as someone who also preferred working alone, this was a change of pace he was having to get used to as well. After their experience, they needed to regroup and determine what their next steps were to find Steppenwolf.  They agreed to meet in one hour at the glasshouse, giving them time to clean themselves up and prepare for their next move. It would also give  _ him  _ time to take care of a few things without interruption, as Barry and Diana took advantage of the amenities of Bruce’s home. 

 

Alfred had spoken with Bruce privately once he and the others had escaped from the flooding tunnels and were heading back. His report had made his blood race through him, heating him as he listened. Myrna’s stalker had returned to the estate, appearing shortly after Bruce’s departure, but thanks to Alfred being prepared for such an eventuality, the man was subdued and now waiting for Bruce to deal with upon his return. His concern was greatly increased however when Alfred told him Myrna had already spoken to him. 

 

“I can’t explain what it is, Master Bruce— it’s as though she’s drawn to him.” He said and Bruce couldn’t help but feel his brow draw together when he heard the suggestion. 

 

“What do you mean?” He questioned, knowing his oldest friend would undoubtedly hear the smaller, self-important question he was less proud of, screaming from under his usual placid exterior. 

 

“I don’t think she cares for the man, Master Wayne—“ he began, confirming to Bruce he had indeed caught what Bruce was thinking, “but I feel whatever is causing her to have these rather supernatural experiences is giving her reason to trust him, or at the very least hear him out.” He finished and Bruce considered the implications of that. He didn’t like the idea of Myrna trusting this man, after all he’d spent a year watching her, studying her without so much as a peep to explain why. He knew Myrna well enough to say with certainty she was intelligent and capable, she wouldn’t jump into anything without thinking it through, but Alfred was right, she was being influenced by something out of her control. 

 

“Has he said anything helpful?” Bruce questioned but Alfred was hesitant to respond. 

 

“Alfred?” Bruce asked again and the older man cleared his throat. 

 

“Possibly. But l believe it would be best if Miss Myrna tells you herself.” He finally said, which only peaked Bruce’s concern more. 

 

“I’ll be there shortly.” He said and Alfred gave an approving sound in response. 

 

“Very good, Master Wayne— We both know Miss Myrna doesn’t want this to affect what needs to be done with Steppenwolf, but she  _ does  _ need you…” 

 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Alfred.” Bruce said and he leaned back, rubbing his face as all of this information bounced around in his head.  Diana, who sat beside him in the vehicle they were traveling looked over at him. 

 

“Is everything alright?” She asked and Bruce shook his head. 

 

“I honestly can’t say.”

 

“Myrna?” She asked knowing with some certainty that’s exactly what it was. Bruce nodded that she was correct as he let his eyes focus on the road ahead of them again. 

 

“The man we’ve been looking for, who’s been watching her… He approached her again—“ he started, Diana’s eyes widening with concern. 

 

“But she’s alright?” 

 

“He didn’t touch her… Alfred was able to subdue and contain him before anything could happen— but, I don’t know, Diana. What if none of this is as it seems?”

 

“What do you mean?” Diana asked him, she had seen many things in her life, some not unlike what was happening with Myrna, but even this was still not easily explained. Bruce ran a hand through his hair, free of the cowl now, the strands still damp from the meeting they’d just had. 

 

“I don’t know… But this man told her something and I’m getting impatient to find out what.” He responded, Diana nodding.  Myrna had become a friend to her and Diana found she had a great respect for her after learning more about who Myrna Swift was.  She could also see how deeply Bruce loved her and that not having the answers immediately at hand to help her was eating at him. He was a good man, but he wasn’t used to not knowing something. 

 

“Then we better get back as quickly as we can.” She said, Bruce happy to agree with her on that front.  This was all coming to a head now, Steppenwolf, Myrna, everything. He wasn’t willing to lose any of the battles coming, but he wasn’t sure how to win all of them either.  He didn’t particularly care for the feeling of insecurity he felt at this moment. He wouldn’t accept failure, he couldn’t accept failure; but until then, what he wanted right now was to see Myrna.

 

* * *

 

 

After he’d given Barry and Diana a brief tour of the facilities for them to use before they all met to discuss their next move, he excused himself and went looking for Myrna.  It was a short search as he found her sitting cross legged on the edge of their bed, staring out the window toward the lake. She was still, her face unreadable. Early morning light was beginning to spread across the horizon, their encounter with Steppenwolf well into the dark of night.  What little light was spilling onto the lake reflected across the floor and lit up the room, giving Myrna an ethereal glow. She didn’t move as he came into the room and leaned against the wall, watching her. Had this moment happened at any other time, he would have relished the sight of her, her dark auburn hair, spilling over her shoulders, almost aflame with morning sun, those hazel eyes clear and bright, waiting for him.  But he knew that wasn’t the case, no matter if it was the fight he was preparing for, or her own tribulations, this wasn’t the quiet togetherness he’d wanted for them. Who knew if that would ever happen, certainly not at this rate. A second later, he caught her attention, her head turning toward him slightly.

 

“Did you find what’s coming?” she asked quietly, Bruce pushing off the wall and walking toward her.

 

“I did.”

 

“It’s bad?” 

 

“It’s not good.” 

 

She was quiet again until he was ahead of her, looking down on the woman who had changed his perspective on so much in such a short amount of time.  It hit him right where he lived that there were things happening he wanted to protect her from, to keep this woman from whatever harm might be coming for her.  Protecting the world was already a task, but protecting her was his guiding force now.

 

“Are you alright?” She asked him and it made him smile that even now she was concerned about his well-being.  Typical Myrna.

 

“It was tense, but everyone is ok.” He told her, reaching out to brush her hair back from her face.  She looked up at him, leaning into his hand as he touched her. It was a small comfort, but he was glad it still provided her something, even as all of these discoveries began to add up with little reward.

 

“Are  _ you  _ alright?” He asked, watching as her lips pressed together and her shoulders tightened.

 

“I suppose I am… Alfred told you about  _ him _ ?” She asked and Bruce nodded, hoping she would be open with him about what had been said between the two of them.  In another life, he would have gone to the lower levels, to the containment room, ready to question the man waiting there until he had answers, but now, priorities had shifted.

 

“He told me I should talk to you about what happened; what our new  _ friend  _ said to you.” He answered and Myrna gave a smile that didn’t quite match what her eyes were saying.

 

“He  _ would  _ say that.” She responded and Bruce couldn’t disagree.  Alfred had a talent for forcing people to face reality, even when they desperately didn’t want to.  He was not a man willing to be a go between unless absolutely necessary, which meant uncomfortable situations were hardly ever avoided and problems had to be solved face to face.  In truth, it was the best way to handle basically any situation Bruce or Myrna found themselves in, but that didn’t make it any less difficult.

 

“Whatever it is, Myrna-- We’ll figure it out.” Bruce said, echoing his earlier sentiments.  She shook her head and gave a small snort, which Bruce was having a hard time reading.

 

“I’m not sure it should be.” She said, making Bruce walk away for a moment to grab a chair sitting in the corner of the room and pulling it over so he could sit eye to eye with her.

 

“Then tell me and if you want my advice, I’ll give it, but we can’t pretend like this isn’t something that needs attention.” He said and Myrna looked at him and shook her head.

 

“Bruce, you have something so much bigger than this happening, one man spouting off crazy can wait.” She told him, sincerely and maybe she was right, Steppenwolf was a threat, a clear and present threat to everyone, including Myrna; but he couldn’t shake the feeling that in some way what was happening to Myrna was connected somehow.  It had to be. He grabbed her hands from her lap, wrapping his fingers around hers, happy just to feel a touch from her again. 

  
“Well if he’s actually crazy, only more reason I want him away from you-- so just tell me and we’ll go from there.” He said and Myrna’s head tilted, her eyes sad as her shoulders tensed up again.

 

“He told me my grandmother is alive…” She finally said after a moment and Bruce realizing that was the absolute furthest from what he’d expected her to say.  The look he was giving her apparently told her that and she shook her head and pulled back from him knowing what he was thinking.

 

“I told you, it’s ridiculous…” She started but Bruce tightened his hold on her hands to keep her from leaving him and crafted his next words carefully.

 

“He said your grandmother was alive?  I thought you told me all your grandparents had passed away.” He said and she nodded with a sigh.

“They did!  At least I thought the last was my grandfather Erwin.  But-- This… Man… Callum is what he called himself… He says my grandmother Murine is alive and all of this has to do with her.” She told him.

  
  


“He’s lying then.”  He answered back, there had been no reason to believe anything different regarding Myrna’s family and there had certainly been no evidence, at least none that Myrna had ever shared with him to assume what this stranger claimed was true.  He was surprised to find she was unconvinced.

  
  


“Is he though?”  She asked him, genuinely and honestly unsure, what else could have said that would make her doubt her own family’s history.  He rubbed his thumb over the bridge of her knuckles, catching her eyes with his own.

 

“Why wouldn’t your grandfather have told you if she were alive?  You would have known her.” He asked her, not sure how a woman who had to be in her seventies by now were she alive could have affected Myrna’s life for the last year without her knowing about it.  Myrna freed a hand from his to rub her face, a familiar coping mechanism of hers when she was especially frustrated.

  
  


“My grandfather didn’t talk about her… Not really.  He would tell me how much he loved her, that he had adored her, but he would never talk about how she died.  Everyone assumed it was an unexpected illness or an accident, but he refused to talk about it.” Myrna said, agitated that perhaps she didn’t know what she thought she did about her family.  It was paining her, he could see it and she was questioning something she hadn’t questioned her entire life until this very moment.

  
  


“That doesn’t mean she didn’t-- Alfred is a man from the same generation and I can count on one hand the number of times he’s shared something from his past with me… This man is trying to get to you, anyway he can.”  He said, trying to reassure her she didn’t have to believe this man. He certainly didn’t, not until there was proof in front of him that said otherwise and frankly the only proof he was getting was this man was causing Myrna pain and that wouldn’t do.

 

“But what good does it do him, Bruce?  Of all the things he could lie about, why would he choose my grandmother?  If it’s so easy to prove she’s been dead my whole life-- I don’t even know where she’s buried.” She responded and Bruce saw her point.  He thought about it for a moment, considering what this man would gain from lying to Myrna, if he wanted to do something clandestine to her, there had been far more opportunities and plenty of other ways he could have gone about doing it.  That’s why the at thought that had been eating away at the back of his mind since they’d discovered she was being watched, that all of this was more than it seemed, was becoming more and more real.

 

“What else did he say?” He asked and Myrna looked at him quizzically.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“When you spoke with him, did he say anything more?” He clarified and she looked down at her hands sheepishly.

 

“I… Uh… I might have… Ended the conversation there…” She said, knowing that wasn’t how she would have handle something at her school, nor as a typical adult, but she had heard enough from him the second he’d said it.  Maybe because she couldn’t stand liars, but even more so because she couldn’t bear the thought that the liar wasn’t the man standing before her. It had scared her that there was a possibility that a man she had spent her life admiring could have been anything but honest with his granddaughter.  And worse, his own daughter. She didn’t know how much of this would change their lives, but she feared what would happen if her mother found out and it broke her heart. That was why as Callum had started to explain why what he said was true, she found herself closing in on herself and leaving him; telling him she wouldn’t listen to another word.  She wondered if Bruce would find that ironic in some way, that after all her talk of being independent and capable that she’d run away at the first sign of discomfort, but she was given an answer when he lifted her hands up to his lips and kissed the backs .

 

“Then we can get to the bottom of this together.” He said and he stood up, encouraging Myrna to join him.  Unfolding her legs and sliding off the edge of the bed she was pulled against Bruce’s solid wall of a chest, wrapped up in his arms and at no point did Myrna feel like complaining.  She could live in those arms if he didn’t need to go save the world every five minutes and she didn’t have a case of mistaken family history to contend with. She pressed her face against his chest for a moment before her muffled voice made its way up to his ears.

 

“ _Wow_ \-- You’re really buff, do you work out or something?” She said and Bruce had to contain a laugh, there she was, his Myrna.  He squeezed her tight for a moment before planting a kiss on the top of her head.

 

“I dabble.” He said before letting her go and smiling at her, although her smile wasn’t full strength just yet, it was still there and it was finally reaching her eyes.  He could live with that and maybe he’d be able to get answers for her; for both of them.

 

“You should definitely keep dabbling.” She said as he directed the two of them out to the living space where Diana stood beside the fire, having changed from her Amazonian garb to her normal street clothes.  Barry was sitting cross legged in one of the leather chairs across from her, shoving handfuls of popcorn into his mouth. No doubt Alfred had had to maintain control of the pantry, seeing how quickly he’d polished off a pizza in front of Bruce back in Central City.  Barry had also changed from his suit and back into his hoodie and jeans, though the hand not currently stuffing his face was itching the spot on his thigh where he had been hit with a Parademon weapon. Although Bruce had limited knowledge on Barry’s powers, basically only knowing for certain that he was very fast, the conversation they’d had (or more the long lecture Barry had provided on the way to the plane) was his body burned a lot of calories now to keep up with his fast pace; he wondered if that meant he had accelerated healing abilities as well.  It was an interesting concept to be sure, but he’d have to ask about it later, as Diana turned and smiled brightly when she saw Myrna.

 

“Myrna, how are you?” she asked, her question belying that she already knew something had changed since the last time they had been together, but Myrna took it in stride and smiled back.

 

“I’m fine, ready for all of this to be over for all of us.” She said, looking over to Barry and back at Bruce, elbowing Bruce lightly in the side for introductions.  Bruce coughed, interrupting Barry mid-chew and drawing the young man’s attention to the three of them staring at him. 

 

“Oh!” He said hopping up from his chair, nearly upsetting the bowl of popcorn on his lap, catching it just in time before finally settling before them.  Bruce looked at him with a pained expression before looking back to Myrna.

 

“Myrna, this is Barry Allen-- Barry, this is Myrna Swift.” He said and Barry smiled widely, he wiped his hand against his jean covered thigh to dust off the remnants of popcorn and salt, wincing slightly before sticking his hand out for her to shake.  Myrna, ever the observant teacher noticed this and grabbed his hand.

 

“Are you alright, Mr. Allen?” She asked him, Barry’s face turning comical as it usually did when speaking to women; laughing at the formal use of his name.

 

“Mr. Allen?  That’s definitely my dad-- Just call me Barry… Or you know, whatever.” He said looking down at the hand still clasping his.  Myrna smiled at him again, still waiting for an answer.

 

“Ok-- Barry, same question though.  Are you alright? You were wincing like you were in pain.” She asked and the young man began turning bright red from the attention.

 

“I, uh… It was nothing-- Just got shot.  With a ray gun, thing… Actually I don’t even know what it was for sure, but nothing I can’t handle.” He said, trying to make himself seem like he hadn’t screamed like a girl when it happened.  Myrna looked at Bruce, brow crinkling with concern.

 

“You said no one got hurt.” She said and suddenly Bruce found himself on the outs with his woman and he wasn’t sure he liked the sudden change of heart.  He looked at Barry, wondering if they really needed a kid who talked faster than he ran, on the team and if anyone would notice he was missing.

 

“ _ No… _ I said everyone was ok… He’s fine.” He said gesturing toward the skinny, dark haired kid as though his standing on both feet was enough to show he was fine.

 

“He just said he got shot.” She corrected and Bruce closed his eyes for a moment, wondering how it had come to this, just a moment ago they had been on the same side.

 

“It was a graze.”

 

“Bruce.”

 

“He’s fine.” Bruce reiterated and Myrna sighed, looking back at Barry.

 

“I’m _sorry_ \-- I sometimes forget Bruce could have his arm ripped off and think it was a flesh wound.  The rest of us mere mortals actually understand there’s a difference. Are you  _ really  _ ok?” She asked again and Barry nodded, still socially awkward but finding the attention enjoyable regardless, nodded.

 

“I’m so good-- Don’t worry about it… It itches a little, but I heal super fast these days.  I mean, papercuts, whuuutt?” He responded, confirming what Bruce had been wanting to know, but amusing Myrna nonetheless.

 

“Well… I’m glad to hear it.  But if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, I’m grateful you’re willing to help Bruce and Diana with this.” She said, the young man smiling wider, if it were even possible.  She definitely had a way with people, especially those who were barely older than her students; of course to Bruce that was basically anyone.

 

“I will… Thanks.” Barry responded, looking as though he were going to start talking about brunch again before Bruce interrupted and directed a comment to Diana.

 

“Diana-- Do you think we could talk to you for a minute?  Barry, if you don’t mind?” He asked, though the look on his face was clear enough even for the socially obtuse man to get the idea it wasn’t really a question.

 

“Nope, no problem here. I’ll just--” He looked for something to occupy him before he lifted up the bowl of popcorn in his hand, “Just get back to my popcorn.” He said before sitting back in his seat and pretending like he didn’t exist.  Bruce walked to the kitchen, Myrna and Diana following him until they were out of earshot. Barry seemed fairly harmless but they didn’t know him well nor did he have a reason to know what was going on with Myrna at the moment.

  
  


“Diana, I was wondering if you might help us with something.” He started, Myrna looking at him, unsure of where he was going with this.

 

“Of course, what do you need?” She said knowing it likely had to do with Myrna, in which case she was happy to help no matter what it might be.

 

“We could use some assistance in finding the truth.” He said, Diana’s head cocking as she thought about what he was saying.  It only took a moment for she and Myrna to come to the same conclusion and everyone was on the same page.

 

“I think I can help with that.” Diana said with a smile.

 

* * *

 

Myrna couldn’t be sure what she really wanted to come of this as they descended to the lower levels as a group.  Barry had been left upstairs to finish his snacks and watch some TV while the rest of them moved toward Bruce’s work space and the room that contained her guest.  Diana had produced the lasso of Hestia, gripping it in her hand as the lift moved them closer to the caverns under the house and now Myrna felt her eyes dropping to it every few seconds.  She didn’t know if she should be afraid Diana’s lasso might prove or disprove what Callum had said. If it didn’t, then she was no worse off than before, they would still have to get it out of him as to why he was here; but that would be made easier with the lasso and they could move on with relative ease.  If he wasn’t lying… Then the door would officially be opened for whatever it meant that her grandmother wasn’t dead and her grandfather hadn’t been truthful with her while he was alive. When the lift doors opened, she felt her heart begin pounding again, blood racing through her and a heat that accompanied it that made her uncomfortable.  As they walked toward the cell, she felt her hand reach for Bruce’s even though she hadn’t intended to do so. She was glad when he took her hand in return and held it firmly. For a man who wasn’t big on frequent displays of affection, he’d done enough in the last hour to convince her, he too thought something wasn’t right about this situation.  

 

When they reached the cell, he flipped on the intercom, alerting the man inside they were there and the blond sat up on the cot provided for him and looked toward the window built into the cell.

 

“Myrna-- Ye’ve brought friends.” He said jovially, though Bruce didn’t take kindly to him speaking so familiarly to her.

 

“Her friends, not yours.” He said and Callum smiled more widely at the sight of him.

 

“Ah, well, give it time-- I have a winnin’ personality.” He answered, his Scottish brogue grating along their ears, Bruce found himself bristling at it, since he seemed to be having fun at their expense.  Callum looked at Diana from his seat, blue eyes taking in the tall, dark haired woman.

 

“An who might **_ye_** be?” He asked and Diana, collected and objective as ever, responded without much thought.

 

“I am Diana, of Themyscira.” She said and the Scotsman’s brows rose into his hairline.

 

“An Amazon?!  Never thought I’d see the likes of ye out here-- Wasn’t even sure ye all still existed.  Ye've got some interestin' friends, Myrna.” He said, Diana remaining unmoved by his attempts at friendliness.  She turned to look at Bruce who nodded a go ahead, Diana opening the door and entering the room, lasso still in hand as the door locked shut behind her. Callum stood, pleasant look disappearing from his face as she inched toward him, eyeing the lasso hanging at her side.

 

“And what might ye be plannin’ Amazon?” He asked, his tone no longer as friendly as it had been before, warning and even concerned as he tried to suss out what it was Diana was going to do now that she was in the room with him.

 

“I plan on getting the truth from you.” She said, waiting for him to make a move, daring him almost to give her a reason to lash out.

 

“I’ve done nothin’ but tell the truth to Myrna-- There’s no need fer threats now.” He said lifting his hands up to show he wasn’t a danger, Myrna seeing now that his hands were scarred, much like Bruce’s, the kind of scars that told her he was a warrior like Bruce as well.  Diana smiled at the tall blond man, not at all worried she’d offended him.

 

“This isn’t a threat-- It is reassurance for a friend…” She said stepping forward, her heeled boots clicking against the concrete ominously, “Now, you could make this easy on yourself and simply allow the lasso of Hestia to compel you where you stand, or you could make it difficult for yourself-- Either way, you  _ will _ be compelled to tell the truth.” She told him and the large man considered his options, which at the moment seemed to be few.  He looked out the window toward Myrna, considering her, as though she were one of those options.

 

“Is this what ye want, nathrach-dè?” He asked her and for the first time she believed his sincerity in the way he looked at her.  Myrna was quiet for a moment, Bruce watching from beside her, waiting for her response. She gave a short nod after considering all the implications of what they might learn this way.

 

“It is.” She answered, realizing it didn’t matter how she felt about it, the truth would be the truth either way.  He gave a heavy sigh, one that told her he was not a man who frequently gave into the whims of others. He muttered in Gaelic under his breath and sat himself back down on his cot, opening up his arms in acquiescence. 

 

“Then I shall be compelled, Amazon.” He said, merely a second passing between his agreement and Diana snapping the lasso with expert precision to encircle his torso, the golden cord that looked like little more than decoration bursting to light upon contact with his skin.  As the apparent man of action he was, he struggled for a moment at the feeling of being bound, forcing himself to relax despite his instincts. He let out an annoyed grunt as the thin rope settled against the thick muscles of his arms.

 

“Bit warm.” He muttered but Diana ignored him, keeping the lasso taut in her hands.

 

“The lasso of Hestia compels you to tell the truth-- If you try to fight it, you will feel more than warmth.  Now-- Who are you?” She asked, his face twitching in response, it was clear he was fighting it against his better judgment.  After a moment he cleared his throat, figuring out very quickly that Diana had not been kidding.

 

“I am Callum MacEwen.” He said, confirming at least the name he had told Myrna was real.

 

“Why are you here?” Diana pressed, Callum’s shoulders tightening in response, the natural urge not to respond despite the supernatural coercion was strong in him.  Diana could see that with him easily and continued on.

 

“Obviously you live a life of secrets, but if you want anything to do with Myrna, you WILL answer-- Why are you here in Gotham?” She repeated and he let out a small puff of air, releasing himself from fighting.

 

“I am here te collect the nathrach-dè, it is the will of her grandmother.” 

 

“The nathrach-dè?” Diana said, looking at Myrna through the thick glass of the cell window.  

 

“It means dragonfly-- He keeps calling me that.” Myrna offered, trying not to dwell on the fact she could understand him when he spoke in Gaelic and more on the fact he had said he was here to collect her.  A fact Bruce latched on to with veritable speed as well.

  
“What do you mean you’re here to  _ collect  _ her?” He demanded, every alarm bell in his head going off at once that perhaps this had been exactly what it had seemed from the beginning and he was here to kidnap Myrna, to steal her away from him and do who knows what to her.

 

“Muirne, her grandmother, ordered me to come to Gotham to watch over her granddaughter and to bring her home when it became clear the nathrach-dè was ready to emerge.  It is clear she is and so I must bring her back to her, to Muirne.” he said tightly, but Bruce felt every muscle in his body tense, his belly full of an anger he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

 

“Over my dead body.” He heard himself growl, ready to go into the room himself and beat the thought right out of this Callum’s head.  He also felt a hand, against his arm, small and warm and turned to find Myrna staring at him. She shook her head, keeping her hand against his arm to calm him, knowing he was angry now.

 

“My grandmother Muirne is dead.  She’s been dead for fifty.” She said and Callum shook his head tiredly, the lasso weakening his fight.

 

“No-- I told ye-- She’s alive.  Been alive all this time, doin' what she must, but now time is catching up with her and she needs ye to join her.  Since ye never knew what ye really are.” He said, the words genuine as he spoke them, despite the muscles in his neck cording in exhaustion against the lasso.

 

“You’re lying.” Myrna said shaking her head, she couldn’t make herself accept it was true, there was nothing about this felt real.  Callum shrugged as though it didn’t matter if she thought he was lying, gesturing toward the glowing cord around him.

 

“I’ve been compelled-- It’s the truth, Myrna.  You are an nathrach-dè. Soon to be THE nathrach-dè.  Your birthright.” He said and Myrna felt a shudder scream down her spine at the words.  

 

Birthright.

 

“My name is Myrna Swift, not nathrach-dè, a nathrach-dè, the nathrach-dè-- Myrna Swift.”

 

“Myrna Swift, nathrach-dè, it doesn’t matter, it’s all the same thing.  It’s who you are.”

 

“I am a TEACHER, a DAUGHTER, a GRANDDAUGHTER!” Myrna said feeling herself beginning to lose her composure, voice raising in response to his unwillingness to bend to what she knew to be true.  All three were surprised when Callum leaped up from the cot, facing the window.

 

“YE ARE THE NATHRACH-DE!  YE ARE DESCENDED FROM QUEENS!” He bellowed, so powerful in his conviction spit flew from his mouth as he yelled, Diana tightening her grip on the lasso, waiting for a violent response, though none came.  He breathed, composing himself again.

 

“Yere grandmother would want to explain this to ye, but I don’t think she counted on ye being _exactly_ like her…” He said crossing his arms awkwardly under the length of lasso, tight around him still.  Myrna practically mirrored him, arms at least free to block herself off from him.

 

“If that’s true, you know I’m not doing a single thing you ask of me until you talk, so I guess she’ll just have to suffer.” She said, Callum looking at her through the glass, saddened all of a sudden, it seemed by Myrna’s lack of empathy toward her own grandmother.

 

“Muirne is a great woman, lass.  Ye’d do well to trust in her.” He said far more quietly now.

 

“I wouldn’t know--  She’s been dead my entire life.” She answered him and he gave her that, acknowledging it was difficult to trust someone who hadn’t been a part of your life at all.  He sighed and then looked at Diana and back to Myrna.

 

“Myrna, I’ll tell ye everythin’, but do we really need the glowing string now?  I havna lied to ye and I swear on my soul I won’t start.” He asked, Myrna looking at Diana and Bruce.  Although Bruce remained suspicious of him, as was his usual response, he knew it wasn’t up to him.

 

“It’s your decision, Myrna.” He said softly, feeling helpless as her eyes closed, frustration written across her face as she didn’t know what to do.  It didn’t seem there were really a right answer anymore. As much as she hated to admit it, she still felt herself drawn to trust him, that she knew him somehow, enough to know, with Diana’s help, that he wasn’t lying to her.

 

“Let him go, Diana.” She said, Diana complied, yanking the lasso free, the golden light dissipating instantly.  The relief that washed across Callum’s face was just as instantaneous, the man happy to be free of the magics controlling him.  He rubbed his chest as though the lasso had left a mark on his skin.

 

“Might we talk more freely, without a wall or four between us?” He asked, Bruce not giving Myrna a chance to respond.

 

“You ask a lot of a man who has broken more than a dozen laws in the last year alone.” He said, Callum meeting Bruce’s gaze without so much as a blink.

 

“Bruce, is it?  Good Scottish name, I might add-- How many laws have _ye_ broken dressin’ up like a bat?” He responded, and the following stare down between the two of them made Myrna acutely aware this would lead to a fight otherwise.  She touched Bruce again, leaning in to talk to him.

 

“Bruce-- I’m not scared of him.  Especially not when you and Diana are here.” She turned to look at Callum, eyes darkening, “And he knows the two of you won’t stand for him acting out, right?” She said and he gave a shrug of agreement.

 

“If I’m bein’ honest, I’m more afraid of _ye_.  But I get what yer sayin’.” He responded, Myrna shaking her head before looking back at Bruce.  Who was still not convinced in the slightest by any of this.

 

“Myrna.” He started shaking his head no, “If we let him loose and something happens to you--” He said, immediately taking responsibility for her safety, making Myrna smile.  She lifted her hand to his face, brushing her thumb across his cheek.

 

“There you go again, thinking everything is on you…” She took in the sight of him, his dark eyes doing much the same to her.  The strength that emanated from him in all things only intensified as he watched her and she accepted that into herself. Almost everyday and certainly even now, Bruce did something that could be his last, without hesitation.  She could take the same risks now. She dropped her hand from Bruce’s face and walked to the cell door, opening it; standing in the frame as she considered him now that there were no longer cinder blocks between them.

 

“I want to know everything.”

 

* * *

 

They had brought Callum to another room, away from Bruce's preparations for the team and the secrets he kept there.  It was a room built for a warrior, something that had never appealed to Myrna though she’d been down here before.  There were suits of samurai armor and seating that took pages from Asian culture, all of which had played a part in Bruce’s training.  At least the parts he’d shared with her. Callum was similarly drawn to the pieces Bruce had set up in here, intrigued by them like Bruce had been.  Myrna however, was ready to move on, turning to face him once they had all made their way into the room. Bruce and Diana both at the ready in the event he changed his tune now that he was free.

 

“Talk.” Was all she said to him, Callum looking up from the shoulder plates he was inspecting to look at her.

 

“Where would ye like me to start?” He asked and Myrna threw her hands up in the air.

 

“I don’t care, just talk.” She said, walking to one of the curved seats in the room and sitting on the edge impatiently.  Callum nodded, rubbing his hands together as he thought about how he would begin this tale, to explain to Myrna how her whole life had been a lie.

 

“I suppose I should start at the beginning then--- Have you ever heard of Andraste?” He asked and Myrna shook her head but Diana’s attention was peaked.

 

“Andraste?  Was an old god of the Iceni--  Goddess of victory.” She said and Myrna looked back at Callum expectantly.  Trusting Diana to know more about gods and goddess than she ever would. She hoped anyway.  Callum nodded, walking over to where Myrna sat, preparing to sit across from her, Bruce making it abundantly clear he would need to watch himself as he too moved closer to Myrna.  Ready to strangle the blond man if he so much as breathed wrong in Myrna’s direction. Callum slowed and gave Bruce a nod of respect.

 

“I have a wife myself, Mr. Wayne-- I’d floor a man for comin’ near her if she didn’t choose it.  But ye need not worry about me; I’ve sworn an oath to an nathrach-dè , I would never try to harm her.” He said, but Bruce’s stance and gaze never wavering.  Callum nodded again and slowly lowered himself to the seat opposite her, resting his elbows on his thighs and coughed as Bruce maintained his post.

 

“Your Amazon friend is right-- Andraste is the goddess of victory.  The old Greek and Roman gods died, but not those of the queen.” He said, Myrna looking at him with a questioning look.  Diana was proof of a great many things, but even this seemed far fetched.

 

“The queen…” She echoed and Callum nodded with a solemn dignity.

 

“The queen-- Boudica.” 

 

One might have heard a pin drop it had gone so quiet.  Myrna felt herself go still at his words, the logical, straightforward side of her immediately working to debunk anything that came out of his mouth, the rest of her flashing to the woman in the lake.  Calling to her, telling her to let them find her. She realized now, what that had meant. Callum studied her from where he sat, trying to gauge her reaction, letting her come to terms with what he had said.  She stayed quiet so he continued, hoping to make it more clear to her as he did.

 

“She was a queen to everyone but the Roman empire it seemed-- Once her husband had died, his will was ignored and Rome came to claim her kingdom.  But she would not stand for it; she denied them at her gates but they retaliated. They flogged her within an inch of her life, raped her daughters and took her wealth and kingdom as their own.” He continued.  Myrna had known this story since she was young, sitting in history class listening about a woman, once an aristocrat in her own right, turned warrior queen, fighting against the long reaching hand of an empire. She had found it fascinating as a child, but never once had she considered a lineage that would connect the two of them.  Callum continued, telling the story with such familiarity it was clear he had told it many times before, but he spoke it with a passion that was not easy to fake.

 

“She was a disciple of Andraste and called to the goddess to give her the strength to fight back against Rome, to take their heart, their wealth and what little honor they had.  She held the hare within the folds of her skirts before battle asking for a sign that she would be victorious. She swore to her men she was more than the sum of her wealth and it was not that wealth she fought for, but her daughter’s stolen virtue and her own battered flesh.  The she, Boudica, a woman, would win or die, but if they wanted to live in slavery to Rome, it was their choice-- She released the hare, the sign they had been waiting for. And they fought!” He said, eyes sparking as he told Myrna about her history in dramatic fashion. She raised a hand in response, stopping him before he continued.

 

“All of this is in textbooks I use with my students-- You’re not telling me anything anyone wouldn’t already know if they googled it.” She said and he looked at her as though she had just interrupted the best part.

 

“I’m gettin’ there!  Patience.” He answered in kind, Bruce finding the flippant attitude of their very unwelcome guest rubbed him the wrong way. 

 

“Jesus.” He muttered, crossing his arms and turning away before he felt the need to punch the blue-eyed man in the throat.  Callum took it in stride however and continued on, knowing full well that Bruce didn’t care for him.

 

“They were victorious in their battles, crushing Roman controlled cities.  She had Andraste on her side. More than anyone knew.” He said but Myrna remained unconvinced this wasn’t just a high school history lesson she’d sat through before.

 

“But she was defeated by a Roman general-- Her rebellion barely lasted a year-- In fact, if I remember right she either poisoned herself or fell ill and died.” She said and Callum smiled at her as though he’d expected her to point this out and he had a secret to tell her.

 

“Stories told by  _ Roman  _ historians…  It’s true, Rome did defeat the Britons and the rebellion they knew of ended there.  But it never  _ really _ ended.  Queen Boudica fled, at the behest of Andraste further north, where it was more wild, where the Romans were unlikely to follow.” He said.

 

“Why?”  Myrna shot back, Boudica was folklore at best, she existed, but time had done its job in ravaging history.  The truth was always watered down with dramatic feats and losers being touted as heroes for the benefit of their masters.  

 

“Because Andraste had plans for the line of Boudica.” Callum said with an intensity that was difficult to ignore.  “She imbued upon the blood of Boudica a gift, one that allowed her a connection with nature that even the most powerful druidic magic of the time could not compare to.” He finished and the quiet returned as they absorbed what he had said.

 

“You are Andrasten.” Diana said after a moment, surprising Myrna and Bruce to look at her, Callum’s face breaking into a wide smile that someone recognized what he was saying.

 

“Ye’ve heard of us then.” He said and Diana nodded slowly.

 

“I admit, I do not know much about them, they were believed a myth.” She said and Callum laughed, a deep, rolling laugh.

 

“Says the Amazon.” He said, his good nature almost infectious if it weren’t for the seriousness of the situation for Myrna.  “The Andrasten are the most loyal of the line of Boudica and disciples of Andraste’s plan.” He added, Myrna finally finding her voice as she considered his words.

 

“What do you mean by ‘imbued the blood of Boudica with a gift’?” She asked and Callum’s solemnity returned, this story by far the most important to him and apparently the group.

 

“The rebellion was lost against Rome in 60 AD, that much was true, but Andraste had seen the fire with which Boudica had fought them, had felt the queen’s ever faithful trust in her as she fought on for the Britons.  The failure was in fightin’ an enemy with no other interests but spreading itself like a plague, no matter the cost, not a lack of faith. Andraste decided Boudica could serve her in other ways and so secreted her and her most loyal away.  She gifted her and those of her line with the ability to use the energy of nature to do their bidding.”

 

“The energy of nature?” Myrna questioned, her skepticism returning tenfold.  As if it hadn’t sounded ridiculous enough she was even entertaining this person and his take on history, now he was suggesting some kind of power from a goddess she had never even heard of.  She turned to Diana, hoping her friend would be able to tell her if any of this sounded remotely feasible. Diana saw the pleading look in Myrna’s eyes and nodded.

 

“There were stories of a tribe, in the wilds, that could use the energy of the world through a connection very few who were not of the old gods could manage without powerful runic magic.  I do not know more than that.” She said as Myrna looked back at Callum.

 

“And this is your tribe…?” She asked him and he gave her a look that said she was partially correct.

 

“Yes, but Andraste’s gift was given only to those of Boudica’s blood.  She, her daughters-- her daughter’s daughters. Only they could touch nature’s power without aid,” he said, lifting the hem of his shirt and pulling it up enough to expose the tattoos that before only the barest traces could be seen from his collar.  A large, winding tree covered the majority of his chest and torso. Its roots reached across his rib cage, runes and celtic symbols running along them. “Those of us loyal to Boudica’s lineage must depend on the less direct way of communing with the power of nature, through runes and rituals.” He said, allowing Myrna’s eyes a chance to study the tattoo on his flesh, knowing even though she had never been taught their ways, her eyes were beginning to read the runes as though she’d been born knowing them-- because she had.  

 

“Like the stone from the security box.” She said and he nodded, dropping the hem of his shirt back into place, the large tree once again covered under fabric.

 

“Yes-- Were yer grandmother here, she would have been able te stay undetected without help.  I had to use other methods.” He said and Bruce let out an irritated grumble.

 

“We know.” He said and Callum smiled, although he still felt the dark haired brooder of a man was too rich for his own good and far too dramatic with his bat costume; he could appreciate his irritation that his home had been breached and the woman he would clearly give anything to protect had ever been under surveillance without his knowing.  Myrna stood from her seat and rubbed angrily at her face.

 

“If any of this is true-- Why now?  Why did my grandfather tell me my grandmother was dead, my mother has  _ never _ said a word of this to me and I have never felt anything like I have in the last weeks before.” She asked, her voice tight and angry.  She felt like the world had just been dumped on her head and she would never find her way out again. Callum wasn’t sure how to answer her without it bringing her more of the same.

 

“Your mother never said anything because she never knew.  For her, her mother was dead and gone and so she never felt the call of her line.  Muirne never intended her to.” He said and Myrna’s eyes meeting his, shining as the idea of her mother living a life without a mother who was still very much alive breaking her heart.

 

“Did my grandfather know?” She asked and Callum shook his head.

 

“I don’t know, only Muirne could answer that-- But I can tell you, Muirne didn’t leave her family because she wanted to, it’s because she had to.”

  
“I’m sure.” Myrna said, having a hard time believing that there were anything worth walking away from those you should love most.  Bruce spoke up considering Callum’s earlier words and wanting clarification for all of them.

 

“You said Myrna’s mother never felt the call of her line,” he started, the thought of the short, plump and busybody redhead that was Myrna’s mother only confirming that at no point had the call to be a warrior queen come into play during her life, “but you being here obviously means Myrna has somehow.” He said and Callum nodded, running a battered hand through his hair, much of it having come loose in the struggle against Alfred’s electrified net.

 

“It did.” He said, Myrna throwing her hands up in the air that she had no idea what he was talking about.

 

“I guarantee I have not heard the _ call of Boudica’s line. _ ” She said and Callum smiled, though this time it didn’t move past his lips.

 

“Three years ago.” He said and Myrna stopped short, looking at him, daring him to continue.  He felt in his pocket, Bruce growing tense, ready to stop him if necessary, only to find the man was annoyed to discover his pockets empty.  The blond looked at Bruce, eyes narrowing at him as he considered what might have happened.

 

“Yer man, he must have emptied my pockets?” He asked half heartedly.

 

“Alfred is very thorough.” Bruce said, finding it difficult not to feel smug that for once in this venture, they’d managed to get to him, rather than the other way around.

 

“Well, the Andrasten don’t use as much technology as you, but there was a small drive in my pocket.” He said, Diana looking to Bruce and nodding before she disappeared to call for Alfred.  She knew Bruce wouldn’t leave Myrna alone with this man until he was certain he wasn’t a threat. A few minutes later, Alfred returned with Diana, a small black thumb drive and a computer in hand.  He set the items on the low table next to the seating arrangement before turning to eye the man he’d captured just hours before.

 

“I can’t say I’m pleased to see you out of your cell, sir.” He said, Callum shrugging his shoulders in response.

 

“Ye have my respect for gettin’ the jump on me old timer, I’ll give ye that.” Callum answered, shoulders tightening at the memory of being electrocuted, Alfred gave a rare and very wry smile.

 

“Believe me, it was my pleasure.” He said as he plugged the drive into the laptop, it initializing a folder.  Alfred clicked on the single file it contained and after a moment, it became clear it was a video. Myrna’s body went cold as she realized what she was looking at before it ever began playing.  Bruce felt her stiffen next to him as he too recognized it, a scene from three years ago that had affected both of their lives before they had met. The video was cuts of security camera footage from the children’s museum, the same museum that shared the block with his own building.  Lights flickering, building shaking from the fight from the alien invaders taking to the skies and working to terraform their planet to suit their own needs. The footage at this moment was of the lobby of the museum, where a small group of children and two adults huddle away from the windows.  Bruce immediately recognized Myrna despite the grayscale the footage was in as she crept toward the door to see if the way was clear, only to have cars and flaming debris slammed down ahead of the building repeatedly, the magnetic pull of the Kryptonian world machine beating mercilessly against the earth.  She returned to their group, the children all lumping together to grab her as she spoke to her co teacher. He could see she was scared, more scared than he had ever witnessed her be and understandably so. The children’s faces were wet with tears, many sobbing, the other teacher having a difficult time keeping it together either.

 

Bruce remembered where he was in these moments, in one of Wayne Enterprises Security vehicles, rushing toward his building only a short walk away from her; trying to get Jack and his employees out of the building before it was too late.  He hadn’t known she existed then, but if he had, he would have been racing to her too, getting her out before what he knew was coming happened. A few seconds more and the power flickered again, the camera cutting out and resetting just as quickly.  The video was silent but it was clear the children were screaming as the quake of the building grew stronger and it was clear there was no way out. Myrna didn’t need a video to hear them, to smell the fear and feel the ground fall away around her, the acrid dust smothering them all, the pain of their bodies being battered as debris fell on them.  Her mind traveling back to a place she had avoided for a very long time, throwing herself into a work to make up for what she thought were all her failures.

 

_ “Miss Swift!  I’m scared!” _

 

_ “Hold onto me, stay together!” _

 

_ “I’m scared!” _

 

_ “We’ll be ok, just stay with me, just stay with me!” _

 

_ “I want my mommy!” _

 

_ “I know, sweetheart, just hold on to me!” _

 

And then it happened.  The building seemed to disintegrate around them, falling in on them, the indoor security camera cutting out as the power died, but the video didn’t stop there, switching to a shot from a building that had managed to survive the assault.  The remains of the museum were spilled along the avenue, the foundation barely an outline under the rubble and dust. Myrna felt her heart stop, the same way it had three years ago. The roaring sound of the world falling down around, the feeling of tiny hands gripping hers tightly, trusting that she would be able to protect them from harm.  She turned away from the screen, Bruce tried to take her in his arms as she did, anger, sadness and fear coursing through her, making her pull away from him. Callum called for her as she walked away.

 

“Myrna, I know this is difficult te watch, but every dragonfly has gone through this trial before ye and every one will do so after ye.  It brings about the change in ye, from merely existing to becomin’ more.” He said with no malice, but it didn’t stop her from swinging to face him, eyes afire with anger.  She pointed at the screen of the computer where the past was still playing out, the moments after the building had collapsed and she had begun digging, fingers raw and bleeding as she focused on the only task that mattered that day; getting her students out.

 

“No!  This wasn’t some  _ test  _ for me to feel the call of my lineage,” She spat out, her whole body buzzing,  “I didn’t become anything in that moment, I lost children, children I was supposed to keep safe and I FAILED!” The stillness returned to the room as she stared Callum down, but all he had to do was gesture toward the screen again, drawing their attention to it once more.

 

“I respectfully disagree, Myrna…” He said, though Myrna was too angry to watch, Bruce and Diana did and they realized what it was Callum was showing them.  The smoke and ash seemed to clear from around the rubble by a wind that didn’t seem possible. Bruce thought back on that day, remembering how the dust and debris had hung in the air for hours after the buildings on the street had fallen, but here it moved away as though willed.  The rubble moved and as though it were nothing, Myrna pushed through, pulling herself up. She was gasping for breath, face filthy and bloody from the collapse, her face contorting with pain as she looked down and saw the piece of glass sticking from her side. Her hands over it, a fight with her instinct to pull the piece out despite knowing she would likely bleed to death.  Sliding back, hand holding her side just below the shard, she began to toss rubble and metal alike as though it weighed nothing, tireless until she found the first student, crying and terrifying and another and another, carrying two or three at a time to safety. Callum looked back at Myrna, her hands crossed over her torso, fingers tapping against where there was a large scar and reminder of all she’d been through.

 

“Ye did this, the impossible, Myrna.” He said but Myrna shook her head.

 

“I did it because I had to, by will, adrenaline even, not because of what you’re trying to sell me.” She said quietly.  Callum blew a breath past his lips, seeing now she was not going to be easily convinced.

 

“Ye may not believe me, Myrna, but yer fighting the inevitable.  Three years ago, yer life was changed, ye nearly died, ye faced losses that scar yer soul to this day and it put somethin’ in ye that cannah be denied.  Ye might have tried to satiate the feelin’ of needin’ te change the world, to fight a battle for good by openin’ that school of yers, touchin’ lives one at a time, but it won’t be enough.  Ye know that, don’t ye?” He said but Myrna stayed quiet, not answering him because she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Until it had become obvious there was something happening to her, she had been satisfied.  She had her family, her friends, a fulfilling career, the love of a man she could never have dreamed to have found, that was enough. Wasn’t it?

 

“Tha thu de Boudica.  Cuimhnich sgeulachd an leac-nathrach.” He said, Bruce looking at Myrna and seeing she understood.  Myrna’s lips tightened, nails digging into the flesh of her palm as she heard him.

 

“I can’t do this.” She finally said, looking at Bruce, telling him without words she needed to be away from this.  She walked out of the room, Callum moving to follow but Bruce intercepting him, putting a firm hand on Callum’s chest and stopping him in his tracks.

 

“Not you.” He said making his position very clear to the blond man, he’d done enough to turn Myrna’s world upside down already.  Callum had the sense to listen, stopping when told and putting his hands up in retreat. For now. Bruce looked to Diana who nodded at him, understanding what he wanted from her.

 

“Go, we will watch him.” She said, indicating she and Alfred would take responsibility for Callum, keeping him away from Myrna until they were sorted.  Bruce looked at Callum one last time, trying to see into the mind of this man and what he could possibly benefit from doing this to Myrna. As much as he hated to admit it, there was nothing about the man that told Bruce he was lying and if he was being honest then Myrna had so much more to contend with then they had believed.


End file.
